


Must be a Nightmare

by doberainbow



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, British Slang, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Geralt has ptsd, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Bad at Communicating, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Bad at Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Still a Witcher, M/M, Multi, Musician Jaskier | Dandelion, Not Really Character Death, Power Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Slow Burn, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Yennefer is still badass, bartender Jaskier, jaskier has nightmares, please someone save Geralt from his own stupidity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:09:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 120,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23826628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doberainbow/pseuds/doberainbow
Summary: Geralt was tired of being immortal and watching the world change around him while he was trying to find his place in it. He was the last witcher to grace this earth, and as honouring as it was, it didn't fill up the hollowness inside him.He still spent his days hunting for monsters while he worked for an organisation that kept every magical being and supernatural creature as a secret from the public eye while he tried hard to avoid his memories about a certain teasing smile and cornflower-blue eyes.Hundreds of years after he last saw his bard, Geralt got a new case where the only eyewitness was a young brunet, with bright eyes, clever mouth, and he called himself Jaskier.Geralt didn't know if he land in his personal hell, or it was just a dream come true, but he knew one thing. He was not ready to face Jaskier again and deal with his emotions at the same time.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, past Geralt/Yennefer - Relationship
Comments: 317
Kudos: 320





	1. The last Witcher

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, 
> 
> So this is my very first fanfiction I ever published in English which is not my mother tongue so please bear with me if I make any grammar mistakes and try to ignore the fact that I, use, waaay, to, many, commas.  
> How does punctuation works in English? Fuck knows.
> 
> So I hope you will enjoy this disaster I decided to upload and hey, leave a comment if you want to, because I am hungry for some criticism. 
> 
> Cheers

This was not Geralt’s world anymore, no. Times have changed, centuries fly by and he was too tired to catch up with the new age. Geralt was exhausted, it was all too much yet not enough. He was lonely, and this sour feeling was haunting him for hundreds of years now. He was old, ancient even, but thanks to Yennefer he remained the same. Immortality came with many perks, someone once said that to him, he can’t recall their names anymore, but he strongly disagrees now. He remembered how excited he was back then when Yennefer proposed the idea of making them immortal. Like it was just last week, he could still see the spark in those lilac eyes as she asked him. Spend eternity with your loved one was something Geralt never thought he could have, and he was stupid enough to grab that potion out of the mage’s slender fingers and drink it before he could think about it twice. There was no gut-wrenching transformation, smoke, or any visible magic, no. His body did not change, he was not feeling any younger or lighter, but as soon as the liquid pooled in his belly, he could feel the difference. Just a buzz, a murmur deep inside him. He saw Yennefer smile at him with that fond look on her face and Geralt knew he made the right decision. 

Oh, how wrong he was.

The first couple of months were just a lust-filled bliss. Geralt’s whole body shivered if he thought about it. Yennefer and her voice, her smell, and her body were all it mattered to him, and Geralt was drunk from it. He felt like he was drowning and he loved every second of it. Of course, it didn’t last long. He knew it was his fault, but he could not start their new life together with a lie between them. With a lie so heavy on the witcher’s shoulder, he felt himself collapse under the weight. He was stupid enough to confess. 

_ 1253 _

_ “So this was all just a wish you made?” Yennefer was shouting. Geralt never has seen her tremble from anger that way, and her smooth voice was now low and cracking. Geralt was speechless. How could she call this bond between them a lie? Geralt's head was spinning and he needed to grasp onto something. “Don’t touch me. Don’t you fucking dare and touch me Geralt! You lied to me. About us.” It hurt like nothing before. His whole body was in pain, his soul was in agony and he couldn’t shake out of it. “When were you planning on telling me this? After decades? Centuries later? Geralt everything we had was a lie don’t you understand? You made a wish! That is why... fuck... all these feelings were just...” Her voice break, tears were smearing black rivers over her cheeks as her painted eyes weep.  _

_ “No.” He was a fool. He should have kept his goddamn mouth shut. He needed to make this right. He could fix this. _

_ “Get out.”  _

_ “Yen.” _

_ “Don’t. Get out and never come back.” Her voice was not more than a whisper.  _

_ “Yen, please.” _

_ “Stop. I swear to every God Geralt. Don’t you ever come back. Do not try to find me. Get out of my sight and take your fucking bond with it I don’t want it.” The push on his chest, those small but powerful hands shove him away and he stumbled. He fell through the door, it slammed behind his back with a thunderous noise. His legs were shaking, his anger was boiling inside of him, and he wanted to carve that aching part out of his heart with his own claws and throw it away. _

_ The next weeks were nothing but a mess. Geralt killed without rest and he tore monsters apart with his bare hands. He marched back into any shit-stained town he was in, covered in guts and blood, and drank away his coins until he passed out. Every morning he woke up with a headache always worse than the day before that and he rode into the nearest town to repeat it all over again. He was reckless, he stomped into nests of werewolves without his swords or armour. He challenged monster while he was so pissed he couldn’t stand straight on his feet. He was the beast he never wanted to become, yet always everyone told him he is. He was turning into the monster he loathed so much and there was no coming back from that. At least he thought. _

_ “Oh for Melitele’s perky tits, are you drinking yourself to death, my dear Witcher?” _

_ That cheerful voice mixed with a pleasant chord coming from a lute and Geralt was saved. He didn’t know it back then, but he was rescued from his own self. _

Geralt got a new contract, the phone beside his head on the bed was vibrating, disturbing his dreamless sleep. He woke up with a groan. Only one of his eyes was strong enough to take a look at his glaring screen as a small mail icon kept flashing on it. He swiped down to open the file and yawned as he read it through, sitting up in his bed, stretching his strained muscles. It was just the details he needed for a new hunt. Names of the victims, locations, a witness, and a price at the bottom of the page. Easy enough, he pressed the button and the email disappeared with a small hum. He was three thousand pounds richer just like that. He should take a shower and get ready.

Times have changed. The year was 2020, and Geralt was still a witcher. He had to admit it, watching the world he grew up and shift into something like this, was fascinating. It was like seeing a child mature into an adult or a flower blossom. He was still that gloomy, grouch of a monster slayer, he was seven-hundred years ago and he still sticks out like a sore thumb, but he learned to make peace with it.

The world was no longer poisoned with war and hatred. People were taught to live with each other in unity and friendship. Countries were created, there were no longer childish fights between kings and emperors. Democracy came, it was a lengthy battle and Geralt was there to witness it how humanity realized they were living like savages and they needed to evolve. Science was lurking behind them as well and sooner than Geralt thought it was possible, it took over and humankind was thriving. Geralt has a twisted relationship with technology. It made his life easier without any doubt, maybe too easy for his liking. After all, it is hard to teach a new trick to an old dog like Geralt, but it does have its perks.

Witchers, officially of course no longer existed, there was no place for monsters and magic and witchcraft in this world, but even though now it was a secret, a myth whispered to kids as bedtime stories, those demons were still in the shadow feasting on humans. Mages become legends as well, no longer helping kings and queens, but working in the background keeping this fragile society together.

It started with a spell, the biggest spell ever created until that point that made humankind forget about anything unnatural, and it was Geralt’s job to keep this hidden from people and let them live in this fabricated dream. Well, his and many other’s. Some of them would like to call him some sort of spy, a secret agent on a secret mission, an assassin maybe. Geralt liked to call it being a mercenary because the name Witcher was just as a laughable fairy tale as vampires and ghouls. But even though humanity did not know they existed, they were giving great pain to Geralt just like every other supernatural creature that tried to disturb the peace in this modern society. Geralt was grateful for that spell which erased the memories of monsters and magic. Without the fear of what is hunting in dark, people had more freedom, and Geralt was no longer a freak amongst them. 

No.

Geralt became somewhat invisible to this busy world and he was cherishing every second of it. There were no more name callings, disgusted looks, and folks chasing him away with pitchforks. None of that. Witchers only belonged to fantasy books and old ballads and he was perfectly fine with that.

Geralt was getting ready for his new assignment. In these times he appreciated science. The way his protecting plates and armour was not as heavy as a sack of rocks thrown at him anymore but a light undergarment beneath his shirt. He still had his old attire somewhere in his basement though. Call it sentimentality, but he wasn't able to throw those clothes away. He had not much left to carry around, but he kept some of his most precious belongings and it was easier now as he owned a small house in the suburbs just far enough from the noise of the city to not bother his sensitive ears. He still had his swords, of course, the years of wielding and sharpening eat up the blades and he needed a replacement, but they were just the replicas of his old weapons. He could use guns of course if he wanted to. Silver bullets were easily killing many beasts but it was too loud and it was harder to clean up the mess. Geralt missed many things, and most of those things were kept locked away in his head behind a thick door and he promised to himself he will never open it again, but many memories were allowed to come to the surface and bother him day after day. He fucking missed Roach. Of course, after Roach passed away, came another horse and because Geralt was not good with emotions and anything that came with emotions so he named his next horse Roach as well. He kept this small tradition going until the day when mankind was no longer riding on horses, but different vehicles were carrying them faster than ever before. Geralt could remember the first time he flew or took the underground, and he would not go that far to say he was scared, but he did not know until the plane took off that his palms were able to sweat. He had a silly smile tugging on his lips as he threw his duffel bag over his shoulder and grabbed his car keys from the small bowl next by his door. His car was nothing fancy, it belonged to the company that was operating behind the curtains and taking care of humanity while remained silent. The company employed Geralt as their own personal one men army. Others were doing the same job as him, but they were not witchers. They were mere humans trained to kill and slay monsters with some help from mages and their potions. They usually worked in teams or pairs.

Geralt as far as he knew was the last witcher on the earth and he would never admit it, but he sometimes lay in his bed wide awake because of the sheer pressure of being the last of his kind. People with magical abilities were still born. It was rare and their powers were just the fractures of the strength of old mages but it still happened. They either joined the Continent, that is how they called themselves the organization which Geralt worked for, or their memories were erased and they forgot about their powers. It was not the right way, forcing someone to either follow them or being stripped down by their abilities and not giving them a chance to use it for something good. The lesser evil they liked to call it. They either had their hands on your powers, or they took it away. Geralt disagrees with this tradition strongly, but he was nothing just a butcher thrown at monsters, he had no saying on this matter. He was not present when they made these rules and he was clever enough to stay out of politics. 

Geralt was in Ellander, the capital of Temeria. It became one of the biggest cities in the North. They cut the world up to four pieces. Noth, west, south, and east. The first time when Geralt had a job on the other side of the globe he felt terribly naïve, thinking about how he thought he knew this world like the back of his hand. He was nothing but a speck of dust in a universe so big he never even dared to imagine. The world was huge, yet with rapidly developing technology he felt it became smaller by each passing day. Cities were bigger now than what kingdoms used to be. Nature was no longer sacred as forests and oceans were conquered and there was not a small patch on this Earth that didn’t belong to someone. Geralt felt caged sometimes, he has bosses, orders to follow, and duties he needed to do, but again, in the eye of the society, he did not exist, which meant, he could do whatever he wanted. But Geralt was no longer an adventurous youth, he was bitter and he felt like a fossil. He just wanted to do his job and clean the earth from vicious creatures to protect this horseshit from what they called civilization. 

Three dead bodies on chrome tables were in the middle of the room as the criminal pathologist opened the door for the morgue and Geralt's lungs were filled with the unmistakable stench of death and mixed chemicals. 

“Three young men in their early to mid-twenties, cause of death is extreme fatigue and dehydration. There are no signs of any forced trauma or abuse. They were all found in their bed, just steps away from their faucet or kitchen, yet they didn’t leave their bed to drink or eat. Any ideas Witcher?” The man looked over to Geralt from his notes as he walked over to one of the victims to pull back the white sheet that covered the body. Geralt sniffed the air, even though they were washed and examined, the smell of lust was still stubbornly lingering in the air. 

“Succubus.” He grunted and the other man just scribbled something down onto his clipboard.

“So they were fucked to death? What a way to go.” The pathologist just sighed sarcastically and Geralt frowned at the man in front of him. “You need anything else from me, Witcher? I already gave the report to your superior.” His tone was sharp but still, he did not look Geralt in the eye since they met years ago and today wasn’t any different. 

“Hm.” Geralt only hummed as he pulled back the sheet to cover up the young man on the table. 

“Well good luck then.” The physician already turned his back towards the mutant as he spoke and Geralt took one large breath before he walked out of the morgue. Succubi were rare but in the past few decades thanks to larger cities and more vivid nightlife they spread all over the globe. It was easy for them to hunt. People were reckless when they went out late at night. Alcohol and drugs were easy enough to buy anywhere and it helped many supernatural beings to kill their prey. It took time for Geralt to get used to how loud the nights turned into. It took him years to adapt to the lights in the cities, the music, and just the crowd wherever he went. He hated it. He missed those quiet nights by a fire in some forest or cave when there was nothing disturbing the peace, maybe just some light strumming coming from a lute. No. Geralt shook his head. It was a memory he locked away ages ago and he will not open that door tonight or ever. He needed to focus on this case, he had a job to do and a succubus was a disgusting and vicious creature. 

The three victims were not related, they were found in their own flat what they rented alone. They were all just barely adults, university students who disappeared after a night out with their friends. The succubus was probably watching them for days before the attacks. They always followed and stalked their prey, making sure nothing will disturb them when they finally had them between their claws. Two out of the three victims were last seen alone, taking a cab to their flats, but the last one was seen with a woman before they took the bus. The eyewitness had no name in the file what Geralt got, but it had an address. If the succubus sensed that she was seen with the last victim, the eyewitness could be easily the next target. But even if they weren’t, Geralt needed to talk with them to find the creature. 

Geralt was driving through the city center, it was early afternoon so the traffic wasn’t too bad. His peaceful drive was disturbed way too early as his phone rang on the seat next to him and without checking who was the caller Geralt pressed the speaker icon on his screen. 

“Yes?” 

“Hello my dearest, I haven’t heard your gruff voice for ages now, how are you doing? Busy as always?” The voice was smooth and just a tad corky as always and Geralt felt the corner of his lips tug into a small upwards curve. Someone brave enough could call it a smile.

“Why did you call, Yen?” Geralt sighed and the mage snorted on the other end of the line.

“Charming as always. I’m calling because I want to invite you to dinner. We haven’t met in a long time.”

“You were busy.” Geralt mumbled and he could  _ hear _ how Yennefer rolled her eyes on the other end of the line.

“Yes, but my plane landed this morning and I am back. So, what do you say, dinner tonight?” 

“I have a new job, I’m headed to the eyewitness right now.” Geralt explained as he smoothly changed lanes with his car and Yennefer hummed with interest.

“Do you know what it is?”

“A succubus, probably.” Yennefer groaned loudly and strained and Geralt was definitely smiling now.

“That could take weeks until she feeds again.”

“Yen, you sound like you missed me.” Geralt teased and the woman just chuckled.

“With every bullet so far my dear.” Yennefer joked and it was Geralt’s time to snort. “Anyway, call me when you are free, Geralt. I mean it. When was the last time you left your house and did something?” The mage’s voice was now serious, like a mother scolding their misbehaving child and as ridiculous as it sounded it always made the witcher a little bit guilty for some reason. 

“I left my house this morning.” Geralt mumbled under his nose but he knew it very well Yennefer will hear it.

“That does not count you, hermit. You need to get out there more, the world has changed, go and explore it.”

“I’m good where I am.” Geralt interrupted and the woman let out a frustrated groan then went quiet. This argument of theirs was pointless. They have been here already, more times than Geralt could count. They were having the same fights for decades now, even more.

“Look, I know you miss  _ him _ , but it has been what, six-hundred years now? You need to...”

“Don’t.” Geralt's voice was small, hoarse, and throaty. He was squeezing the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white and he was not having this conversation right now. Or ever. 

“Geralt I...”

“I will call you later.” He hissed before the mage could continue and Geralt reached for his phone and ended the call. Fuck. His head was spinning and he nearly missed a red light. Yennefer will be the death of him. Even if she gave him immortality. Geralt breathed in and out slowly, amber eyes back on the road. He will not think about this right now. He managed to push away the urge to tear that door open in his mind where he kept these thoughts locked away. He never let his brain wonder there, the last time when he did that was nearly twenty years ago, and it took him months to get out of that hole he threw himself into. He is never doing that again. 

Geralt parked his car in front of a crumbly block building on the better part of this rather dodgy neighbourhood as he checked the house number once again. He climbed out of his car as he slid his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. He was not really asked, but more like forced to wear it because his mutated eye colour was something considered too scary for common folks. He got used to it by now, but he still preferred to work at night, when he didn’t need to hide as much as in daylight. His freakishly pale skin and white hair were easy enough to explain, but his yellow feline eyes always got too much attention. His hair was tied in a high ponytail, and even though Yennefer begged for him to cut it, she called it old fashioned, he couldn’t force himself to do it. 

_ “You should wear your hair down more, it makes you look less menacing and more like a disheveled prince, my dear Witcher.” _

Geralt whole body froze as that voice echoed in his skull and he felt his guts twist inside him. He shook his head fiercely. Damnit, Yennefer. He slammed the car’s door shut behind himself and he strode across the street towards the building. 

The whole building smelled like black mould and dirt. It was one of the poorest areas of the city and Geralt tried hard to take shallow breaths as he climbed to the third floor. He sniffed the air, but there was nothing unhuman in it. He could hear people walking around in their flats, watching the telly, and chatting, but there was nothing dangerous. He walked to door number 32 and he breathed in deeply. Whoever lived there didn’t leave a heavy scent behind, it was just a small sweetness coming from the flat as much as Geralt could tell. He raised his hand and knocked three times on the door. He looked around while he was waiting for any noise to come from inside. The doorbell was broken, it looked like someone tried to rip it off the wall and the doorframe was cracked in many places. The door itself was freshly painted and had a new doormat on the floor. Geralt knocked again, but there was no sound coming from the flat, not even a heartbeat. 

“If you’re looking for the young man who lives there, he is working right now.” Geralt's head snapped to the right as an elderly woman peeked through her door, the chain still secured as she smiled at him. She was wearing her pyjamas and a cardigan pulled over her chest as she looked at Geralt. The witcher turned to face her and decided it was dark enough on the hallway to push his sunglasses on the top of his head as he nodded shortly and fetched his badge from his back pocket. It was easier to make him a fake detective badge than trying to lie about who he was or what he was, and he had to admit it, people were behaving around him more tolerably when they thought he is a detective. 

“I have a few questions.” He said and the lady just peaked at his badge for a second before she closed her door, unhooked the chain, and opened it again wider this time.

“Of course, of course, would you like to come in?” She smiled and Geralt tried to respond with a small tug of his lips as well but it was everything but convincing as he shook his head.

“Do you know your neighbour’s name?” Geralt asked as he pointed at the eyewitness’ door. 

“Oh, dear. Something quite silly. He introduced himself when he moved in and I brought him some biscuits, but I forgot about it. We just call him the musician from 32.” She blushed a tiny bit and Geralt frowned before he could remember that he was not allowed to scare humans. “He is really a lovely lad, I hope he is not in any trouble?” She looked up at the mutant a somewhat panicky and now Geralt forced a reassuring smile on his pale face.

“No, he is not.” 

“Oh, that’s good. He is just so charming and even though he can be very loud when he is practising, he has such a delightful voice. It would be a shame to have a new neighbour.” The lady chuckled and Geralt was awkward as always when he tried to have a conversation with a human.

“Do you know where he works?” He tried to sound less harsh than usual and the woman smile widened.

“Of course, silly me, I should have started with that, I'm sorry. He works only a street away in a pub. It just after the corner across the church. Can’t miss it, it’s painted bright purple.” Geralt hummed and the woman quickly explained how he can find the bar where her neighbours worked as a bartender. Geralt thanked her and politely refused to take some shortbread with him as he walked away from the door. He breathed in one last time front of the flat and he could swear there was a vague scent of lavender in the air but the smell of mould just took over his senses as he left the building. 

_ “If you put that in my bathwater I will strangle you, bard” _

_ “It’s just lavender oil Geralt, the secret behind my smooth skin so you should be very grateful. It won’t hurt your senses more than the stench of a gutted ghoul. Now shut up.” _

The pub was indeed just five minutes away like the lady said and now Geralt was standing in front of the church as he waited until he could jog across the street between the cars. 

_ The Drunken Bard _

Said the sign hanging from the brick wall and for a second Geralt could feel his heart skip a beat. He needed to get his shit together. Succubi were maybe lurking and stalking their prey until they were alone and sucked the life out of them feeding on their lust and delusions for days, but those creatures were vicious. When a succubi felt being cornered or followed they attacked with fangs and claws. Gorgeous feminine features could turn into coldblooded, vile beasts in a second if they smelled danger and Geralt had a few scars on his body from various succubi.

The witcher was standing in front of the bar, the heavy wooden door had a hanging  _ open _ sign on it but Geralt couldn’t see too much movement through the stained-glass windows. He grabbed the door handle and stepped into the pub only to be slapped in the face with the thick aroma of freshly brewed beer. Only three customers were sitting as it was only early afternoon, and Geralt could smell them from the door. They were in their late forties, construction workers, judging by their uniform as they slouched on highchairs by the bar. 

“Hi, there!” The jolly voice came from behind the bar as a young girl stepped over to the till leaving the three men as they tried hard to flirt with the bartender and keep their balance at the same time. She was barely an adult with her long, wavy blonde hair pulled up in a messy bun on top of her head, she looked way too young to work in a place like this. She was wearing a black t-shirt with three small buttons at the top and the bar’s name over her chest. Her bright blue eyes were gleaming in the dim light and she had that generic, tired  _ customer service _ smile on her face. “Long day?” She asked again because Geralt was a damn mute apparently and the silence was getting uncomfortable. The witcher decided to walk to the counter totally aware of how the three men glared at him as the girl’s smile just widened and she popped her palms on the bar to lean against it. Geralt pulled out his badge again and flashed it to the girl and her eyes got large in a second and that forced grin fell from her pretty face. Geralt could smell the nervousness ooze out of her skin right away. The youth nowadays. 

“I’m looking for someone, I think he works here.” He clarified and could hear how the girl swallowed down the lump in her throat and her smile was back once again. “He lives just a few minutes away, his neighbour told me I can find him here.” 

“Oh, you are looking for Jules.” The girl sighed and she was now walking over to the end of the bar where the small swinging door was. “He told me that a fuzz will come and look for him. Sorry. You don’t look like a cop.” She chuckled as she left the bar and now was standing next to Geralt with her hands on her hips as she took a good look at him. Geralt frowned an didn’t know if it was a compliment or he should feel insulted because he doesn’t look like a police officer. 

“Detective actually.” He corrected gruffly and the girl grinned at him again as she shrugged.

“What did that idiot do this time? If he started a drunk barfight somewhere he will stay in custody because I am not going to bail his scrawny arse out from there again.” Geralt scowl deepened as this girl was being way to chatty with him and not getting the chills while he glared at her. 

“He may be an important eyewitness for an ongoing investigation.” He grunted and the blonde’s body language changed from cheeky to  _ oh shit _ in a second as her mouth fell open and she stared at Geralt.

“Oh, alright. He is in the office, I will go and fetch him.” She gestured towards a door on the other side of the pub with a  _ private _ sign engraved in the wood. “Could you please keep an eye on them? I don’t want them to climb over the bar a drink beer from the tap again.” She whispered as she poked her thumb over her shoulder pointing at the three wasted men by the bar and Geralt simply nod with a dull face as the girl walked away and disappeared behind the door. Geralt could hear muffled footsteps and another door opening as the girl walked around in the employee’s area. The three men were no longer glaring at him, they were instead trying to have a drunken conversation about something Geralt didn’t care enough to listen to. The door opened again and the blonde girl stepped out looking up at him with a cheerful smile.

“He will be here in a second. Would you like a drink while you wait?” She asked as she walked back behind the bar not taking her large eyes off of Geralt who just stood there as casual as a statue with a scowl on his face. 

“I’m on duty.” He murmured and again it was one of those things he missed from the good old days. Getting piss drunk while on a hunt for a monster. No matter how hard he tried to explain to the Continent that having a few drinks will not affect his senses or the way he works, he was still not allowed to drink while he was working. Absolute horseshit, but it was easier to follow the rules than argue with them. The blonde girl in front of him just grinned as she walked to the three men with a perfectly practised smile on her face to take their order. Geralt propped one of his elbows on the counter as he looked around in the pub. Somehow these bars kept their old fashioned style during the years and Geralt welcomed the sight of carved chairs, the smell of cooking oil deep in the walls as they served chips later on the day and the feeling of the old times. 

Geralt was socially challenged as Yennefer liked to say. He hated crowds or small talk. Of course, he could bullshit his way out of many situations but he preferred to be left alone and share his thoughts with no one. Well it changed when he met  _ him _ , and he was forced to speak more than he ever did before and be part of the conversations, but it was a very long time ago. Geralt learned again to be his old self. He learned to love and appreciate peace and quiet once more and he lied to himself every single day when he said he doesn’t miss  _ their _ talks over a bitter ale in a tavern at the end of the world. No. Geralt shook his head slightly. He was not going to think about that again. He cleared his throat just at the same time as he heard fast footsteps approaching and the  _ private _ door slammed open.

“I swear if I have to do the paperwork for him again, I will murder that arsehole and you Essi, will be there to tell everyone he deserved it.” 

The loud melodramatic voice did not echo in the bar or was overly thunderous, but Geralt felt all his blood freeze in his veins in a rapid second.  _ That voice. _

“Jules you forgot something!” The blonde girl, Essi, laughed and tilted her head towards Geralt who was standing petrified with his back facing towards the man who walked through the door.  _ That voice. It can’t be. _

“Oh fuck, sorry, I didn’t mean it that way, I’m absolutely harmless usually but our manager keeps dancing on my nerves and he has a terrible sense of rhythm.”

_ Jaskier? _


	2. Painfully Similar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt has bigger problems than seeing Jaskier once again like saving the said man from monsters, but Geralt is not a clever cookie. Bless his heart, he is trying his best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Everyone, 
> 
> Another day, another chapter.
> 
> I hope you will like it and again, I apologise for any typos, grammar mistakes and the way I sprinkle commas everywhere I shouldn't, english is not my first language. One day I will learn how to use punctuation 
> 
> BUT IT IS NOT THIS DAY, right Aragorn?
> 
> Cheers!

_ 1254 _

_ There was so much fucking blood everywhere, Geralt could feel it running down on his arms, soaking his tunic and ruining his trousers. He was heaving, he was running towards the room through the hallways faster than ever before. His thighs were trembling as he rushed and burst the door open, breaking it with his boot as he kicked it open and he collapsed on the floor. The body in his arms was featherlight and warm, yet Geralt never carried more weight in his life. He was crumbling into pieces. _

_ “Yen!” His voice was nothing but an inhuman roar and the mage was just there, just right in front him kneeling quickly, her flowy black dress pooling around her on the floor. “Please, Yen!” He couldn’t form a coherent sentence, he was bawling, his eyes sting from tears he never knew he had. _

_ “Geralt, oh gods what...” The mage looked at him and back down to the body in his arms. Her fingers were hovering over them and she gasped painfully. “He is...” _

_ “No.” Geralt shook his head, his whole body was shaking and he was rocking back and forth clinging to the light frame in his lap. “You still can save him! Please! I’m begging you!” _

_ “T-there is nothing I can do, Geralt.” He never heard her voice crack like that before as she tried to talk over her sobs.  _

_ “No. Don’t. You still can. I know you can. I know you can save him.” _

_ “Geralt, look at me. Please look at me!” _

_ “I can’t, I need him. I can’t let him... I can’t live without him.” That was when Yennefer breaks down. Her posture was collapsing and she was wiping her face with the back of her hand.  _

_ “I’m so sorry.” Geralt shook his head at that. _

_ “Just fucking save him Yennefer!” He was shouting like never in his life before and the mage shivered under the weight of his tone and cried into her palms. “Please.” Geralt pleaded. _

_ “I’m sorry Geralt... I can’t... I’m so sorry.” She was repeating herself and her arms were now tugging Geralt into a hug.  _

_ “I can’t do this Yen. Not without him.” He was weeping into her thick locks as Yennefer pulled him closer, strong fingers tugging into his shoulders.  _

_ “I’m so sorry.” She repeated it again, over and over. Geralt’s tunic was soaked with blood and tears. _

_ “I need him.” He was whispering through whimpers and the mage was wailing louder into Geralt’s skin. Geralt closed his eyes and dropped his head back. He can’t remember how long they were sitting there, with Yen hugging him, but her cries turned into a soft humming after a while. Geralt’s tears seemed to never stop as they kept running down on his pale cheeks and over his stretched neck as he kept staring at the ceiling. The body in his arms slowly lost its heat, he held him for so long. The blood dried on his arms turning his fingernails black. Geralt kept his eyes up, he was not ready to see Jaskier dead in his arms.  _

“Oh fuck, sorry, I did not mean it that way, I’m absolutely harmless usually but our manager keeps dancing on my nerves and he has a terrible sense of rhythm.” The nervous laugh and  _ that _ voice grabbed him out of that memory and Geralt blinked his eyes open. When did he close them? 

He was still in the bar, standing by the counter planning to question a potential eyewitness.  _ That voice. _ Geralt shook his head and he pushed up his sunglasses into his hair as he glanced over to the blonde bartender, Essi, that’s how the man called her, the man who was still standing behind the witcher. Essi was still wearing that bright smile and shook her head unapprovingly, turning away to busy herself with some cleaning. He can do this, it has been centuries, his mind was just playing a cruel prank on him. Geralt straightened up as he shifted from one of his feet to the other and turned around to face with the man who had somehow manage to stole  _ his _ bard’s voice. 

Geralt lifted his eyes on the man standing front of him a few meters away and he felt his soul shatter inside his body as a dropped glass jar and he needed to physically grab onto something, like one of the highchairs next to him. Those cornflower-blue eyes he thought he would never see again widened in shock as their gaze locked and Geralt lungs felt like he was breathing in flames in a forest fire, gasping for air. The man, Jules, as the blonde girl called him was staring up at the witcher with his peach-pink lips slightly open and Geralt was dizzy. This man cannot be real. 

The man front of him was identical to Jaskier, who died in Geralt’s arms hundreds of years ago, and had no fucking right to stand now in front of him in this bar with a cheeky smile on his face and gave the witcher a heart attack. It wasn’t just some small similarities. No. From his chestnut-brown, styled, mess of a hair, to the slender, mile-long legs of his, he looked exactly like Jaskier. The dark eyelashes around his round eyes, the sharp cheekbones, the small dip above his top lip, his long neck, those broad shoulders running into a slender, narrow hip, and strong but lithe thighs. Geralt stomach wrenched. 

“H-how can I help, Detective?” The boy asked, stepping closer only to froze a second later when Geralt stumbled back into a chair which gave a loud creak on the wooden floor. “Are you...?”

“Excuse me for a minute.” Geralt muttered so fast he was sure the other didn’t even understand a word from it and he stormed out of the pub without looking back. His legs were carrying his body like a deadweight. He was not in control when he turned around a corner to find himself in an alley holding onto the moist brick wall behind a huge rubbish bin as he retched. His vision went blurry, his throat was sore as he gagged over nothing, but his stomach kept twisting and jumping inside him. His knees were trembling under his weight and he was panting loudly, like someone who got punched in the guts. And he certainly felt like it. This can’t be happening. This wasn't real. He walked into a spell, someone was playing with his mind or he finally lost his sanity and he will wake up in any second strapped to a hospital bed while someone gave him a lobotomy. It was nothing but a nightmare. Geralt forced his eyes open and straightened up as much as he could, turning around to lean against the wall with his back. This can’t be real. Nobody can be this identical to him. 

Over the hundreds of years since Geralt lost  _ his _ bard, he met many men similar to Jaskier. Sometimes Geralt was sitting in a tavern and he heard one of Jaskier’s songs being played by another bard and he always pushed people aside without even thinking, to get a good look at the singer. But it was never him, or anything like him. Geralt tried to forget him but every now and then, he found himself in a bed with a young man with messy brown hair and wide blue eyes. It was never the same, but if he shut his amber eyes, he could always recall Jaskier’s cheeky smile as he stole a sip from Geralt’s ale. He could always pretend the other man he was spending the night with had the same lavender smell like Jaskier had, and he always heard his bard’s voice in the back of his head as the brunet called out his name. But it was never like this. Never this real. Never this painful. Never this beautiful. Geralt shook his head. He was working now, people were dying and he was hiding in a stinking alley because he couldn’t face with a man who could be the twin of Jaskier’s. 

“Fuck.” He groaned and pushed himself away from the wall, walking back on uneasy legs to the bar. He needed to breathe in and out slowly for a couple of moments before he reached for the door. He grabbed his phone as he stepped into the building and every pair of eyes inside locked onto him as he slowly slid his mobile phone into his pocket, just as he was finishing a phone call. The man, Jules, was now standing by the bar with his legs crossed by his ankles as his chin was dropped into his palm with one of his elbows on the bar. His eyes quickly rammed over Geralt’s body who stared at him in return being absolutely unable to move or say anything. After a second later the young man shrugged it off whatever thoughts he had in his mind and walked to the witcher and Geralt felt himself backing away again. He needed to get a grip.

“Is everything alright?” His voice was jolly as always and Geralt knew he was holding back his breath as Jask-Jules was standing just in front of him and his back hit the door with a soft thump. The man was looking up at him now with concern shadowing over his face and Geralt felt like he had a dagger held against his throat. 

“Hm.” He managed to  _ say,  _ or more like grunt, and the brunet gave a small smile as he eyed Geralt up and down again. Geralt knew he was freaking him out, he could smell the anxiety in the air, but he couldn’t help how his brain reacted to this stranger. Every nerve in his body was confused, trying to figure it out how to break this spell or curse or whatever nightmare Geralt walked into.

“Should we go to the office?” Jules asked head tilted slightly onto one side, his thick hair bouncing just enough to let one lock of hair fall over his eyes. Geralt fists clenched by his sides as he bit back the urge to reach over and tug the strand of soft hair behind his ear. Fuck, he was going mad.

“Hm.” He nod and Ja-Jules just snorted at that with a roll of his eyes as he gestured towards the private door he stormed out from just a few minutes ago, turning around and giving Geralt a moment to breathe in shakily for the first time since he came back to the bar.

“You know Detective, no offense, but your interrogating skills are not too frightening.” The man grinned as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure Geralt was following him, and the witcher knew he should scowl at the other to being this cocky with him, but he was just happy that he managed to walk behind the brunet without falling over his own feet. It was ridiculous. He never thought something like this was possible. Jules did not just sound like Jaskier but he moved just like  _ his _ bard. Smoothly, carelessly, with that tiny sway of his slim hips, which made Geralt go feral, as his slender legs carried him. Jules was dressed in bright purple trousers and the fabric hugged his legs like a second skin as he walked to the front of him, and that sight awakened many thoughts in Geralt’s mind he was not ready for. Jules was wearing the uniform t-shirt as well with the logo on, leaving the three tiny buttons open at the top, revealing his thin neck and collarbone. Geralt's head was spinning and he started to panic. He could easily see  _ his _ bard in these clothes. He knew it damn well Jaskier would’ve loved modern society and fashion to be able to express himself. He tough about it a million times. As foolish and masochistic as it sounded, he thought about what would Jaskier wear when he had way too many clothes to choose from. Geralt thought about what would  _ his _ bard think about modern music and theatre, would he enjoy it? What songs he would write for Geralt in these days? His mind wondered against his will too many times about how much Jaskier would’ve loved to live in this era and each time it broke his already damaged heart a bit more and more.

“Take a seat. Sorry for the mess but our lovely manager is an absolute piece of shit who can’t do the paperwork properly.” Jules apologized with a groan as he stepped into a small but utterly chaotic office. There were papers, receipts, delivery notes all over the desk, chairs, and floor. Jules runs his skinny fingers through his hair as he stood in the middle of the room trying to figure it out how to make enough space for Geralt to sit somewhere. The witcher just stood in the door like a creep he was, awkwardly staring at the man clutching his soft locks before grumbling an annoyed  _ whatever  _ and pushed all the files on the floor, freeing one crooked office chair for Geralt.

“Sorry.” He mumbled while he moved the rolling chair towards Geralt as he walked back to the desk and hopped on top of it with his legs dangling down and fingers crossed in his lap. It took a second for the silver-haired man to realize he was supposed to sit down and do his job instead of ogling at this young man who just happened to be  _ his _ bard’s walking and talking replica. He finally took the offered seat and tried to fight the feeling of running out of this room which seemed to be getting smaller and smaller around them with each passing second. Geralt reached for his jacket’s pocket to fetch his notebook and a pen and he felt his fingers shake as the young man just followed every single one of his movements with his bright blue eyes. “So this is about what I saw on Saturday yeah?” Came Jaskier’s voice and Geralt looked up to the man who was just quirking one of his eyebrows up as their gaze met.

“Yes.” Geralt managed to croak out a sound and the boy’s smile just widened as he kept staring into Geralt’s amber eyes for a long moment.

“Please don’t take this the bad way Detective but you have truly magnificent eyes.” Jules’ grin was blinding as he leaned a tiny bit forward still studying Geralt’s freaky eyes and the witcher felt himself fighting for air. His lungs were not supporting him anymore, he felt like his head was pushed underwater and held there. “In this dim light, they almost look...wolfish.” Jules chuckled with a slight flush on his milky skin and Geralt wanted nothing more than stand up and pull him into a bone-crushing hug until eternity. He could smell the excitement in the air, dare he say desire too, as this young man literally eats him up from his head to his toes.

Geralt was losing it. He couldn’t bear that look from the other man and as soon as he glanced back down to his notebook, he could feel the shift in the air as the brunet cleared his throat and his shoulder slightly dropped in defeat as Geralt didn’t respond to his teasing. Geralt can’t do this. He knew those damn coy looks too well. He let his bard get away with many things, and shamelessly flirting with Geralt was one of them. Jaskier always enjoyed provoking him and Geralt was too far gone for the bard to tell him to stop. But even after all this time, he was too weak. It was painful to get those challenging looks from the brunet who was so similar to Jaskier, but he couldn’t force himself to either play along with it or end it.

“Yes, it’s about last Saturday.” Geralt finally found his voice, or something alike, as he glanced back up to Jaskier who now had his arms folded over his chest and had a nearly invisible pout on his lips. It brought back too many unwanted memories and Geralt’s heart ached even more because of it.

“I already told everything to the cops.” Jules shrugged and was now avoiding Geralt’s eyes and honestly, the witcher was grateful for that because as soon as those blue orbs caught his own yellow ones, his brain became roadkill and he couldn’t speak. 

“I need to hear it again.” Geralt stated and Jules just grimaced slightly at that, just like Jaskier did whenever the mutant asked him to stay put while he went to a hunt. His heart was hammering so loud in his chest he was sure the brunet could hear it loud and clear at this point.

“Ugh, can’t you just, I don’t know, read the statement I already gave?” 

“I took over the case from the police, I need to take your witness statement again.” He explained with his strained voice and Jules just sighed. 

“Fine. Whatever. Will you tell me at least what is the case and why am I being asked about that guy?” 

“It’s classified.” Geralt grumbled and Jules rolled his blue eyes even harder than before and the witcher was truly an idiot because for some reason he opened his mouth again. “But I can tell you that much, the man you saw on Saturday was murdered a few days later, and you were the last person who saw him alive.” Now that got the brunet’s attention and his eyes widened as his lips fell into a small o shape and he slides further down on the desk to lean closer to Geralt.

“Holy shit. Are you for real? Oh God, I’m so sorry I was being an absolute dick, you just threw me off with your Uhm... well everything. I’m sorry.” Jules jabbered gesturing towards Geralt’s... well everything and the blush on his face darkened as he licked his upper lip just as Jaskier did when they first met in that damned tavern in Posada and the bard realized he just sat down to the infamous White Wolf’s table. Geralt’s jaw flexed as he shook that memory out of his head. “Anyway, I’m all ears Detective...”

“Geralt is fine.” Muttered the witcher before he could stop himself and he winced how unprofessional he sounded, but as the grin spread wider on the other’s face, he knew it he will get away with it. “I need your full name first.” Geralt looked back to his notebook before Jules could try his name out on his lips because he was positive, he will have a stroke right here and now if he hears Jaskier’s voice call out his name once again. “Jules...” Geralt looked up to the brunet who was chewing on his bottom lip and chuckled softly.

“It’s just what Essi calls me. It’s Julian Pankratz. Julian Alfred Pankratz actually. Do you even need my middle name? Anyway. Everyone just calls me Jaskier. Well, not Essi, but literally everyone else. She is just taking the piss.” He babbled casually and Geralt’s fingers trembled so hard his pen rolled into his lap and a second later dropped on the floor. His brain simply had a short circuit and all the blood left his body with it. This can’t be happening. 

It was nothing more than a joke. He was having a nightmare. He must be still sleeping. 

_ 1999 _

_ “Yen?” _

_ “Gods Geralt what are you doing here do you know what time is it?”  _

_ “I saw him.” _

_ “What? W-who?” _

_ “Jaskier. I just... I thought it was him. I followed this man. He walked just like him.” _

_ “Fuck Geralt how much did you drink?” _

_ “He looked just like him from far away.” _

_ “Come in, I will make you a potion and you can get some sleep.” _

_ “I miss him.” _

_ “I know, and as surprising as it is. I miss him too. Come on, sit down, you barely standing on your feet.” _

_ “I was nearly hit by a car.” _

_ “You know it’s not funny, so stop laughing. You may not age, but you can die.” _

_ “I wasn’t paying attention. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I really thought it was him, Yen.” _

_ “Geralt...” _

_ “I know it’s impossible. I know he died... fuck... hundreds of years ago, but I still thought it’s... Yen?” _

_ “Yes, Love?” _

_ “You still have  _ **_ that _ ** _ potion?” _

_ “Geralt you can’t be serious.” _

_ “I want to forget him. Just, erase him out of my memory. Please.” _

_ “You are not thinking straight. You’re a mess.” _

_ “I can’t...” _

_ “Listen to me Geralt and listen to me carefully you idiot. You loved him. You loved him more than you ever loved anyone or anything in this world and he died. I know how painful it is, believe me, I fucking know. Everyone I ever loved is dead except you, but because I can still remember them, they never truly die.”  _

_ “It hurts.” _

_ “I know. I know it does but he would want you to remember him. Remember Jaskier as he was when he lived.” _

_ “I never told him.” _

_ “Geralt don't do this to yourself.” _

_ “I never told him how much I...” _

_ “I’m sorry Geralt.”  _

_ The last thing he remembered was Yennefer’s fingers on his forehead as a spell hit him and he fell into a dreamless slumber. _

The memory flashed before his eyes. It happened more than twenty years ago. Geralt’s last but not his worst breakdown. He saw a man looking like Jaskier on the streets and he followed him until the young man turned around and Geralt’s heart was crushed once again. He remembered how he hides behind a tree in a park and his legs gave out as soon as he realized how big of a fool he was. He was sitting there in the grass for hours before he stumbled into the first bar he found and drank double his body weight in alcohol. He was there until he got kicked out after closing time, and he was grateful for how wasted he was because he knew it very well, he wanted to start a fight if he would have been able to stand on his feet. He ended up in Yen’s doorway, tears running down on his cheeks when the mage opened the door and Geralt nearly fell inside.

He didn’t take the potions which could free him from his memories and he never thought about taking it after that night. Yennefer never offered it either. They didn’t talk about it, Geralt just simply walked out of her house when he woke up and the sleeping spell wears off. He texted to Yen when he got into his own house later on that day and they never mentioned it again. 

Yet here he was in this cluttered office, sitting on a broken chair with a man in front of him who should not exist. This was what Geralt’s nightmares were made of and even he was wide awake now, still, his demons followed him. 

“Jaskier?”His voice was just a frail whisper, it even surprised himself how pained and hoarse he sounded. He looked up from his notebook and the brunet just frowned at him for a second before nodding with a smile.

“It’s a stage name. I’m a singer actually, not just a bartender. I perform every other night here and there. As charming as this place is, it’s not paying me enough to pay my rent.” Geralt nods with a stoic face but he truly just wanted to scream from the top of his lungs. Who the fuck was this man? He was gritting his teeth so hard his jaw hurt. A singer he said. He wondered if he could...no. He can’t hurt himself that way. 

“How...”Geralt bit on his tongue before he said something awfully stupid. “Jaskier is an unusual name.” He hoped he sounded curious and not as desperate as he felt when he looked up at the smiling man.

“Yes, I suppose it is. It’s a long story.” He shrugged and Geralt wanted to protest. He had time, he was more than ready to sit here for as long as he could and just drink the sight of  _ his _ bard and listen to his delightful voice. But Jaskier already opened his plump lips to speak. “We could grab a coffee someday and I could tell you. If you are interested.” Jaskier smirk was now challenging and Geralt could hear the man’s heart beat just a tad faster, but enough for the witcher to nearly lose the little composure he possessed. He needed to respond in any way but he was astonished and he felt under attack.  _ His  _ bard was of course flirtatious with everyone around himself, Geralt included, but the witcher always just ended the teasing with a glare until the poet just laughed it off and joked about something else. But now, this man, whoever he was, openly made a move on him and Geralt was too confused to do anything about it. Of course, he wanted to spend time with him, but he knows it was not good for his heart. This man was probably nothing but a hoax. He had to be some kind of a doppler or a curse leashed on Geralt to make him suffer the way it hurt the most. Geralt frowned.

“Hm. Next time.” He mumbled and the brunet’s grin was now blinding, his eyes sparkled and the sweet scent of happiness slapped Geralt across his face. “About last Saturday.” Geralt guided their conversation back on track but it seemed like the man was way too smug about being able to land a date with the witcher to fully pay attention. “Tell me everything you told the police in as many details as you can.” His voice was almost professional, and considering everything, it was good enough for him. He grabbed his pen from the floor and like the ancient, brave, monster hunter being he was, he completely avoided the man’s eyes as Jaskier described what he saw that night. Geralt didn’t look up from his notes, and he knew it if Yen would be here, she would make fun of him because he never in his life took this many notes about any case he ever had.

He couldn’t help it, this man, just as  _ his _ Jaskier, was talking like a poet, painting a picture in his head as he tried to remember every single detail. He was moving his arms around widely, his fingers were pale and delicate and Geralt was scribbling down utter nonsense at this point as he followed the brunet’s movements with hungry eyes. He knew how those fingers felt running through his hair when Jaskier insisted on washing Geralt’s hair after a messy fight. He knew how gentle those hands were when they rubbed healing salves into his sore muscles after a long day on the road. He also knew how hard Jaskier’s grip could be when he was holding onto the witcher when a furious husband attacked the bard. He loved how callused the very end of Jaskier’s fingertips were from years of abuse from the strings of his lute. He knew how those hands felt between his own when they were warm and soft, and he knew it how easily they lost their colour and heat when Jaskier’s heart stopped beating. Geralt snapped out of it with a shiver, looking up at the man, who was still deeply in his story not realizing the horror on Geralt’s face and the mutant was truly grateful for that. 

“And cross my heart, the poor lad was off of his face. That girl was carrying him on her shoulders, which was bloody respectable and impressing considering how high her heels were. They got on the bus and that’s all I saw.”

“Could you describe her?” 

“Oh Dear, she was just simply gorgeous you know, when someone is so stunning effortlessly it makes others speechless. You  _ must  _ know the feeling.” The man devious smirk was infuriating but instead of rubbing him in the wrong way it just made Geralt’s heart flutter and he scowled as he averted his eyes back onto his notebook. This man had no shame and the witcher’s head was spinning with different scenarios he knew he will never really act on. “She... she was killed as well?” The brunet’s voice went unsure in a second and Geralt glanced up at him but those wide blue eyes forced him to speak, and he had no power to fight against it. 

“She might be a suspect.”

“Fuck me, seriously?” The man leaned back as his mouth hang open and hands fidgeted in his lap. Quickly his face paled and Geralt smelled the wave of panic ooze out of his skin as the brunet bit down on his bottom lip. “Uhm, theoretically if I somehow locked eyes with her while she dragged that wanker on the bus, what would that mean for me? Theoretically of course.” The man’s smile was clearly forced and trembling as he scratched the back of his neck peeking down at Geralt from under his thick dark eyelashes and the mutant’s spine felt like it turned into an ice rod and his amber eyes snapped back to that sparking blue pair. 

“She saw you?” He asked and the brunet just shrugged sheepishly.

“Maybe.” Jaskier said and Geralt knew he had no right to slap an eyewitness, but goddamn it he felt his paper-thin patience just dissolve in a flash. If this man was telling the truth and the succubus caught him watching as she dragged her victim away there was a big chance she will come after him and he becomes her new prey. Geralt needed to contact his supervisor immediately. This man needed to be put under protection as soon as possible. Geralt just moved to grab his phone a dial when there was a muffled noise coming from the bar which sounded like broken glass. Geralt’s eyes narrowed as he heard some rapid footsteps on the hardwood floor and the brunet front of him just sighed. “I swear Essi has two left hands and twenty butterfingers.” He stood up to go and check if the blonde bartender needed any help but Geralt was quickly on his feet as well, blocking Jaskier’s way to the door. The brunet opened his mouth to assure the silver-haired man that there was nothing to worry about, Essi breaks something every day like it was a weird tradition of hers, but then there came a thunderous bang and a choked out scream through the walls. “What the...” The brunet gasped and Geralt pushed him behind himself before turning to face the man. Jaskier’s large panicked eyes looked up at him and Geralt shoved him lightly between the cabinet and the table with a palm on his chest. The man just gaped at him as his back collided with the wall and Geralt stood closer to him than ever before. “What the?” He breathed out and the mutant whole body shook as he could smell a faint lavender scent snake into his lungs from the man’s hair.

“Stay.” He grunted and the brunet blinked up at him before he frowned. 

“Like hell I am. What the...” The hand on his chest wasn’t gentle anymore as he was pressed up to the wall once again but stronger this time while the taller man growled at him and the brunet’s face fell as those amber eyes flashed bright yellow. 

“Stay here and be quiet.” Geralt’s voice was rough and he was disoriented as the other man’s scent wrapped around him tightly. The brunet pressed his lips together and nod shortly when Geralt’s sharp canines showed for a second and Jaskier swallowed. It was a good enough response for Geralt to step back but before he could move further away there was a hand wrapped around his wrist and he looked back at the bartender. 

“Essi is... she is all I have,” Jaskier mumbled hesitantly, not looking at the witcher but instead down on the floor, as his fingers squeezed Geralt’s arm for a quick second before he pulled his arms away. Geralt stood there and looked at the man, debating between pulling him against his chest and place a kiss on the top of his head or leave him behind. He nearly moved to embrace Jaskier when another loud noise shook the walls. 

“Stay here.” And that was all Geralt managed to say before he stormed out of the office onto the narrow hallway. The noises were louder here, and the witcher cursed under his breath. He was far too deep in his thoughts and memories to notice the clatter coming from the bar even if it was loud enough for him to hear through the walls. He acted dead from the neck up since he laid his eyes on the brunet and he made an amateur mistake and let his emotions affect his job. He reached the door leading into the customer area and he froze in midstep. The unmistakable irony smell of blood was heavy in the air mixing with something sickeningly sweet as moved again and he pushed the door open with his foot carefully. “Fuck.”

The three drunk men who were sitting by the bar when Geralt came in here were now on the floor. All of them laying in their own spilled blood which pooled between them like a crimson lake. Their throats were slashed open with irregular claw marks and bites. Their face was spattered with red splashes, eyes wide open, mouth in a frozen scream as they died. Their dead eyes were filled with terror and confusion.

“You!” It was a screech coming from one of the succubi. There were four of them standing in the pub, all of their feline eyes glued at Geralt standing under the doorframe, blood dripping down their chins. Their fangs and gums were pink from blood. Succubi usually didn’t murder their victims like this. No, they were stalking them, seducing them with their sugary scent and spells and slowly suck the soul out of them, feeding on their lust and desires. This was unusual behavior from them. “The last Witcher, I'm truly honoured.” The succubus grinned widely, her beautiful face was split in half with that grotesque, sarcastic smile, and Geralt just raised one grey eyebrow at that while the other three monsters just chuckled. All four succubi were staring at him, measuring him up while none of the moved to attack first. There were three of them between the tables and chairs, all of them with thick dark, wavy hair, and one of them in the bar, a redhead. They were all dressed in tight, black dresses and combat boots. They came to fight and kill, not to seduce someone. 

“Where is the girl?” He asked and the four beasts just exchanged a quick look and break out in a vicious laugh, their sharp teeth shining in the dimly lit bar. The one with the ginger, fiery hair, who was behind the counter bowed down to grab something from the floor and Geralt braced himself, ready for an attack, but it was something he did not expect. The monster straightened up quickly with a smirk, throwing something heavy on the top of the bar recklessly. Blonde hair flew in every direction as Essi’s hair tie snapped and her thick locks now stuck together from her own blood in a mess. Geralt closed his eyes for a second, his jaw clenched as the girl’s head rolled off the counter down to the floor. The four beasts howled like animals at that. 

“Oh, God.” It was a breathless, choked gasp coming from behind him and Geralt’s yellow eyes snapped open with horror as he looked over his shoulder to see Jaskier stand there with his shaking hands over his mouth, blue eyes large and glassy as he stared down on the floor locking eyes with whatever was left from Essi. 

“Fuck.” The witcher hissed loudly and many things happened at the same time in the pub. The four monsters launched themselves towards the door like they were bullets shot from a gun with a gut-wrenching shriek as they saw Jaskier come out of the office. Geralt slammed the door shut before the succubi could reach it. He jumped back and raised his right arm up, palm towards the entrance as he cast the Quen sign. The doorframe lit up with a bright blue glow as Geralt clenched his fist to secure the spell around the entrance. The screams were loud as the monsters tried to scratch and claw their way through the door and Geralt backed away slowly turning towards the younger man. The blue eyes were still glued to where Essi’s head was thrown at in the other room and Geralt knew they had no time to waste on mourning. “We have to go. Now.” He grabbed the man’s shoulders and lowered his head to look him in the eyes. Jaskier was in shock. His scent was choking the mutant, reeking of fear, and confusion. His heart was beating so fast Geralt was worried he will have a heart attack here on this hallway. He growled in frustration before reached for the brunet’s chin and held it with his fingers as softly as he could, lifting the other’s head to catch those cornflower eyes. Geralt licked his chapped lips and breathed in raggedly. “Jaskier?” His voice was just a puff of air but it was enough to shake the other out of his panicked trance and Geralt winced. It was an agony to form this name again on his lips but he couldn’t let this man die here, he needed to figure it out who he was first. “We need to go.” He said reaching for the man’s trembling hand and pulled him towards the end of the hallway while Jaskier stumbled behind him without protest. “There is any backdoor?” He looked back and those blue eyes were blurry, unfocused and Geralt without thinking he put his palm on Jaskier’s cheek once again and his heart shrank from the feeling of that skin. “Jaskier, there is a backdoor?” The man tear-soaked eyes blinked up at him and Geralt wanted nothing more than hug him until there were no sobs left in him. 

“T-there, the stockroom.” The brunet mumbled, voice hoarse and weak when Geralt let go of his warm cheek, pulling him behind himself as he pushed the door open. There were cases of drinks until the ceiling, paper rolls, and ingredients stocked on top of each other in labelled cardboard boxes. It was a tight fit as the two men slid between the shelves towards the metal backdoor. “It’s closed, the key is...” The brunet muttered but Geralt’s left boot collided with the door with a deafening bang and the metal frame shattered from the force and split open. “What... the fuck are you?” Jaskier’s smaller hand was yanked out from the mutant’s grip and the brunet lurched back as Geralt turned to face him. 

“I will tell you later. We need to go now.” Geralt grunted reaching for the man who just stumbled backward again, trying to get far away from Geralt. Jaskier scent was heavy with fear. He was afraid of him, terrified even and Geralt needed to put this aside immediately, he couldn’t think about it right now no matter how much it hurt him.

“How do I know you are not going to... to kidnap me or...” Jaskier stuttered and Geralt’s heart couldn’t take any more of this. He closed the gap between them inhumanly fast, both his hands coming to hold Jaskier’s jawline and tilting his head up to look him in the eyes closely. He could smell the horror on the other and he pushed away from the urge to rub his face into the crook of Jaskier’s neck until he smells like nothing but Geralt. 

“I would rather die than hurt you.” Whispered the witcher without thinking and Jaskier’s eyes widened, his breathing become shallow and quick.

“Your eyes are...” The brunet panted and Geralt moved away from him like the skin on Jaskier’s jaw was burning his hands. He reached for Jaskier’s elbow instead and dragged the shocked man behind himself onto the alley. Geralt could hear the succubi leaving the door which he secured with the spell after they realized they can’t break Geralt’s magic, and now they were probably running around the building to catch them on the street.

“Fuck. We need to run to my car.” He pulled Jaskier behind himself as they started to run. Geralt could hear the shrieks and rapid footsteps around the corner from the beasts.

“You need to tell me what is going on.” Jaskier shouted behind him as they raced down the street while Geralt pushed pedestrians aside on the sidewalk as he dragged the brunet along. “Geralt?” The witcher wanted to say many things at once. Be quiet. Don’t stop talking. Just run. Shut up. Repeat my name again. But he just grunted as he yanked the brunet off the sidewalk and they sprinted between cars. “Bloody hell... Geralt?” Jaskier’s voice was high and strained as a lorry nearly hit them before Geralt could tug him away from it. “Oh, God.” We are nearly there, thought Geralt and glanced back to see the four beasts follow them just a couple of dozens of meters behind them. The mutant’s grip on Jaskier’s arm tightened as they swung around the corner, finally close enough to see his black car. “Fucking hell.” Jaskier shouted as one of the succubi howled behind them. Geralt knew they were causing a scene and there will be too much explaining to do after this, but as long as they get out of here alive and in one piece, he couldn’t give a toss about it. He will worry about all that later. His car was just a few feet away and he pulled Jaskier to the side, ripping the car’s door open and a little too hard he pushed the heaving man on the passenger seat then slammed the door on him. The succubi were just catching up on them and before Geralt could slide across the hood of his car he raised one arm towards the monsters. He could see Jaskier from the corner of his eyes as the brunet pushed his palms on the window staring at Geralt with wide eyes when the mutant cast the Aard sign. The spell sent the four women flying back as they were knocked off their feet with the compressed kick of magic. Jaskier’s breath was making his window foggy as his eyes followed the beasts landing onto their back with a choked out groan and Geralt finally jumped over the hood of his car with a palm supporting him on the metal and he yanked the door open. “What the holy fuck was just that?” Jaskier squealed as Geralt started the engine quickly and checked the beasts in the mirror. They were still laying on the concrete shaking from the attack. 

“Seatbelt.” He grunted and the brunet just let out a baffled groan.

“What now?” 

“Seatbelt!” Repeated Geralt with a snarl and for a second Jaskier just stared at him dumbfoundedly before he snapped out and moved to pull the strap around himself with quivering fingers. 

“Fuck. Okay. Seatbelt. Sure. C-can we go now? Please.” Jaskier was turning back to see the succubi slowly stumbling on their feet and without even looking his left hand was grabbing Geralt’s right arm when he reached for the gear stick. “Oh shit, they are coming. Detective, please just goEEEH” Jaskier screamed from the top of his lungs as the car jolted forwards with a deafening screech coming from the wheels and they left a dark cloud of smoke behind them. The brunet was still clawing at Geralt’s forearm, his other hand clutched on the seatbelt over his chest. “Fuckfuckfuck.” He panted as the witcher yanked the steering wheel from left to right and back, zigzagging between the coming cars and Jaskier was pressed into the seat closing his mouth tightly as he groaned. Geralt glanced at the other man for a second who had his head thrown back, eyes and lips locked, chest rising and falling rapidly as the witcher drove through the streets with the gas pedal stomped into the carpet at the bottom of his car.

“We lost them.” He stated the obvious fact a few minutes later, stealing a look from where Jaskier’s fingers were seized around his arm, knuckles turned white from the sheer force he was holding onto the witcher. “Are you...” He started but he felt like an idiot as soon as those words left his mouth. He looked back on the road as Jaskier just shook his head frantically. 

“Fucking far from it.” It was not more than a wail. 

“I can’t pull over yet. They can follow your scent for a couple of kilometers.” Geralt explained and the brunet just nods once before opening his eyes and looking at the silver-haired man. 

“Is this really happening?” He whispered and Geralt couldn’t help the small downward curve breaking through on his lips. He was asking the same thing from himself. “Oh for fuck's sake. Is Essi... she is really? That was... that was real right?” Geralt couldn’t bring himself to form any noise or respond, he just nodded shortly and Jaskier sighed deeply. “I’m going to be sick.” Moaned the brunet clasping both of his hands over his mouth as he pulled up his knees and his body jerked forward. Geralt was quickly pulling the steering wheel to the side, stopping the car without thinking as Jaskier trembling fingers find the door handle and pushed the door open at the same time as he leaned out. “Oh god.” He coughed and Geralt was disoriented enough to move his palm to Jaskier’s shivering back without thinking twice about it and rub small circles into his skin through his shirt. “Why is this happening with me?” The brunet howled, his lithe body shaking under Geralt’s hand as he sobbed loudly. 

“We shouldn’t stop here.” 

“Uhum, just a sec, and I will pass out and we can carry on.” Groaned Jaskier sitting back properly in his seat and slammed the door shut as he let out a shaking breath. “I can’t believe this. This is not happening, right? This can’t...” He was mumbling to himself and Geralt slowly put back his hands on the steering wheel. 

“Are you...” He started but Jaskier’s dry laugh cut into.

“Fucking great. Really. All good here. Just...just drive.” He waved his arm towards the road and Geralt swallowed the lump in his throat before guided the car back between the lanes. “You have some explaining to do so feel free to start anytime, I’m all ears.” Jaskier rambled and Geralt jaw tensed at his tone. 

“We should wait until...”

“Just fucking tell me! Tell me why am I being chased by some freaks who happened to rip my only friend into pieces! Explain it to me how it’s fucking possible what you did there?! Come on! Who the hell are those women? What are they? What are  _ you _ ?” Jaskier shouted, his face was flushed red from anger and he had tears running down on his face. He was snarling and when the first drop reached his lips his eyes widened. He didn’t realize he was crying. “Fuck.” He cursed as he pressed his head back into the seat, his palms were covering his face as he sobbed loudly. His whole body was quivering. His voice was absolutely ruined and he pulled his knees up to his chest. Geralt kept his eyes on the road as he was listening to his cries. Jaskier was muttering nonsense to himself as he dropped his forehead on his knees and his arms came to wrap around his legs as he whimpered. Geralt's own hands were trembling as well. 

“I will tell you everything when we arrive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any comments about this, whatever this is, please leave a comment down below and don't forget to use the discount code GERALTYOUDUMBFUCK_06 when you check out.
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	3. Some explanation would be wonderful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt finds out more about Jaskier's past but it just makes things even more complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyhey gorgeous, 
> 
> Again, new chapter. Yay. Please forgive me for my grammar mistakes and pretend that I don't use crazy amount of commas. English is hard, but Henry Cawill's abs harder ;)
> 
> Gentleman, start your engines, and may the best woman WIN!

Geralt was a mess. His brain was scrambled inside his head and he knew he was not paying enough attention to the road. It was a simple muscle memory as he drove his car through the familiar streets. He needed to pull down the window to let some air inside because he was choking on Jaskier’s scent as it mixed with the sourness of fear and mourning. The brunet was now staring out of the window, his knees still pulled up to his chest as his teary eyes lost their focus and he just let everything become a blur in front of him. They were quiet for over ten minutes now, and Geralt felt like he was drowning. He could hear the sound of the other’s heart beat erratically from the shock which was now starting to surround him like a heavy blanket. He still had no idea who this man was. He couldn’t be Jaskier. He died centuries ago in his arms. Geralt was the one who heard him speak and laugh and whisper for the last time before he was gone. Geralt was the one who dig his grave and buried him in Posada. Geralt glanced over to the boy for a second. They were both dancing on the edge of losing their sanity at any moment. 

“We are nearly there.” He said and as much as he tried to soften up his voice, he winced at how rough he sounded in the massive silence between them. Jaskier seemed to snap out of his thoughts with a shiver as he sniffed and wiped down his face, looking at Geralt with his reddened eyes. 

“Who are you?” He asked in a breathy voice and Geralt’s jaw clenched at how familiar that weak tone sounded. 

“I work for an organization called the Continent, and our main job is to protect humanity from...” He trailed off as he realized what he was doing. He was not allowed to tell anyone about who he is and who he works for no matter how much danger they were in. But again, he opened up under that bright blue glare as a book dropped onto the floor ready to read, unable to hide. 

“From what? Aliens?” The brunet asked with a tired, sarcastic snort and Geralt exhaled slowly. Fuck Yennefer will kill him. 

“No. Aliens are not real.” 

“Well duh, excuse me for assuming that after I was chased by four bloody slags while you were using magic!” Jaskier hissed still not taking his eyes off of Geralt who was staring out of the front window like his life depended on it. 

“Monsters. We are protecting humanity from monsters any other creatures.” He rumbled and Jaskier just snorted at that and shook his head in disbelieve. 

“What were they?” 

“Succubi. One of them killed that man you saw on Saturday.” Geralt explained gruffly and Jaskier’s skin turned into gooseflesh in mere seconds. 

“Fuck. That’s why they came after me? That’s why they killed Essi?” Jaskier’s heart was beating way too fast again to be healthy and Geralt cursed in his head because he was clueless about how to comfort and calm the other down. He was never good with words, he could never soothe someone and make them feel safe and cared for. No matter how hard he tried, and he tried many times in the past, he was always just a brute. After all these years, he was still useless. 

“They usually don’t murder like this. Something else triggered them.” 

“What?” Jaskier asked. He was absolutely baffled and sounded like a part of him still thought it was nothing more than a nightmare and he could wake up if he tried hard enough to snap out of it. Well the two of them had that in common at least. 

“I don’t know.” Geralt grunted and he was grinding his teeth without even noticing doing it. 

“Okay, then what are  _ you  _ ?” His tone was pointed now and he could feel as Jaskier’s eyes were roaming over his face searching for an explanation, and Geralt wanted nothing more than to make the young man stop looking at him like he is some kind of a freak. Even if he was one. The fact that  _ this  _ Jaskier was afraid of him, even if just the slightest, was making him feel like something was grabbing his heart and squeezing it so hard Geralt wanted to shout. 

“I’m a Witcher.” He grunted and he knows it very well it meant absolutely nothing to humans but as soon as those words left his lips Jaskier’s eyes widened in disbelieve and he stared at the mutant like he grew another head. 

“Like a monster hunter from the old songs?” His voice was unsure and Geralt nearly crashed into the car in front of them as he turned to stare at the other. 

“What songs?” He asked and the brunet was startled as yellow eyes glared at him and just before he opened his trembling lips to answer, Geralt’s phone started to ring in his pocket. “Fuck.” He cursed and lifted the mobile to his ear. “What?” 

“What the hell were you thinking?” Yennefer’s shouting was deafening and Geralt winced at how his ear rang loudly from the mage’s voice. “It’s everywhere Geralt! Police found the bodies. There is a video of you casting Aard. What the fuck happened?” Geralt glanced at Jaskier who was now staring at him with his eyebrows knit together. 

“I can’t talk right now.” 

“Oh, yes you fucking can. I was summoned to clean up your mess and get rid of that video which is trending online, thank you very much for that.” Yennefer was fuming on the other end of the line but it was the least of Geralt’s problem. 

“Yennefer. I can’t fuckin’ talk right now.” He hissed and the mage went silent for a second before she spoke again in a worried tone. 

“What happened Geralt? You need...” 

“I met him.” Geralt interrupted with a choked voice and he could only imagine the confusion running over Yen’s beautiful features. 

“Who?” Geralt snarled as Jaskier was still watching every breath he took and the way his jaw clenched. 

“ _ Him  _ .” 

“Geralt what the hell are you talking about?” 

“Fuck Yennefer, it’s him. He is... he is right...” Here. With me. And I am not okay. He wanted to say, but he just bit onto his tongue instead. “I can’t talk right now. I will call you later.” 

“Geralt wait!” He didn’t. He hung up on her and dropped his phone back into his pocket after muting it. He was seeing red and he was sure he will have finger-shaped dents on the steering wheel once he lifts his hands. 

“Who was that?” Jaskier voice came quietly, unsure if it’s a good idea to disturb the silver-haired man while he was clearly in rage, but his curiosity washed away any doubt after a moment of debating. 

“A friend.” He said gruffly and Jaskier just nodded at that. They were now in Geralt’s neighbourhood. Only a street away from his house and the witcher knew it very well he could never, in any circumstances, let anyone involved in any case know where he lives. That’s why he pulled up on his driveway with this man who claimed to be Jaskier,  _ his  _ Jaskier, on the passenger seat. Geralt was a fool. He turned off the engine and let his eyes close for a minute as he dropped his head back onto the headrest. He could feel how the other man watched him without blinking and could hear the flutter in his heart, while he probably deliberated between yanking the door open and running away from Geralt, or stay here and maybe get some answers out of the mutant. 

“A-are you alright?” Geralt opened his eyes when he heard the brunet’s voice and he tilted his head to look over to Jaskier. Fuck he was breathtaking. His hair was now a chaos as he ran his slender fingers through his locks over and over again, trying to calm himself down. His eyes were large and so damn blue it looked absolutely out of this universe. His lips were red and swollen from biting them too hard for too long. Geralt was staring and Jaskier was watching him as well. He fucking missed him. 

“Hm.” He nodded, breaking the eye contact as he opened the door and climbed out of the car. Jaskier followed him shortly, unbuckling his seatbelt and standing on quivering legs as he followed Geralt into the building. Jaskier was quiet as he looked around in the house which looked like a rented apartment more than a place where somebody lived. No photographs or anything was reminding him of a home. The house was almost empty as none of the furnishings had any decorations of clutter on them. The tables and shelves were empty. Not a single picture or a book anywhere. There was no television or a computer. The house looked hollow just like the man it belonged too. “Water?” Geralt asked and Jaskier followed him into the kitchen which was just as empty and blank as everything else. It was clean. Spotless even. It looked like it has never been used before and as Jaskier studied the witcher’s home, he felt heavy sadness sit inside his belly. 

“Do you have something stronger?” Jaskier asked back and for the first time since they met the man stoic, frowny face was lit up a tiny bit with the smallest and quickest smile Jaskier ever saw in his entire life. It made him look so much younger. Not like the silver-haired man looked old. Not at all. He seemed to be in his early to mid-thirties but his eyes were so painfully crowded with emotions it gave him a more senior and unapproachable look. 

“Whiskey?” Geralt offered as his smile disappeared and his lips were pursed together again. 

“Perfect.” Jaskier nodded and Geralt vanished in his bedroom, he assumed it was the man’s bedroom, to come back with a half-empty bottle in his hand and moved to the cupboards to grab a glass. “Don’t worry about that.” The brunet mumbled as he stepped closer to Geralt and grabbed the bottle from the witcher’s grip, removed the cap, and took some seriously large sips from the golden liquid. Geralt was stunned. Here in his house where everything smelled like him, and only him, having Jaskier stand in his kitchen was really messing up his brain. He watched as that pale, slender neck stretched as the brunet swallowed an alarmingly large amount of whiskey in one go before he put the bottle down on the kitchen table, and Geralt was not alright. He was far from it. Every single mutated cell in his body tried to understand how this was possible. He was staring and Jaskier lifted his blue eyes at him. “Why are you keep looking at me like that?” He asked with his head cocked slightly to one side and Geralt averted his eyes quickly, glaring at the wall instead. 

“You remind me of someone I used to know.” He said quietly and Jaskier seemed to relieve at that. 

“He was just as dashingly handsome as I am?” He teased with a weary smile but when Geralt instead of smiling at him, just closed his eyes and seemed absolutely broken, Jaskier cleared his throat with a blush on his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I... I'm joking when I’m...” His voice was washed away with a groan and he quickly took another sip from the whiskey. “So a witcher huh?” He asked, trying to talk over the lump which was pushing on his vocal cords and he pulled out one of the two chairs by the table and slouched down on it with a thump. “I thought they were only a myth.” He looked back up at the man who was still standing like a statue but now at least was looking at Jaskier and not trying to burn a hole through the wall with his eyes. 

“Most people never heard about witchers.” Geralt said as his face darkened from confusion and Jaskier just gave a weak shrug. 

“Well, I'm not like most of the people.” He mumbled and the silver-haired man just kept studying his face and as handsome as Geralt was, it was creeping the hell out of Jaskier how much it made him uneasy in his own skin. “I studied some ancient folk songs years ago. There was this poet, he had some of his notes in the Oxenfurt Museum. He was writing ballads about a witcher.” Jaskier's voice was soft and he dared to look up at the man only to see Geralt tremble in his whole body. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, his hands were grasping the sharp edge on both sides of his body so strongly his knuckles turned white and the wood was creaking under his grip. Geralt’s face was pained, he looked paler than before and his lips, even though they were tightly squeezed together, were quivering. Jaskier’s breath was stuck in his lungs as his eyes widened. He studied those songs out of pure curiosity but later find himself so fascinated with the lyrics and the mythical creatures in them he somehow becomes captivated by them. The songs about a heroic warrior who spent his life freeing humanity from beasts and monsters. The tales of... “Geralt of Rivia.” Jaskier gasped and it seemed like that was the last push the witcher needed and he finally stumbled over his breaking point. Geralt snapped his eyes open and the brunet nearly yelped by the seer pain what was hiding behind those amber eyes as the man bolted away from the counter and stormed into his bedroom, slamming the door behind himself. Jaskier shivered as he heard the man collapse on the other side of the door with a loud bang and then everything went quiet. 

Geralt couldn’t take this anymore. The last time he felt being this weak was when his mother left him there crying and whimpering at Kaer Morhen. His whole body was sizing up as Jaskier said his name so softly and he needed to run away. He couldn’t face this anymore. He couldn’t watch him suffer and choke and die again. He needed to get away from this man, forget him, and shut that door in his brain which seemed to slam wide open as soon as he laid his eyes on the bartender for the first time. He was in his bedroom, on the floor with his head thrown against the door as he kept just breathe in and never exhale, yet he felt like he was being strangled and needed to gasp for air. His heart was hammering so loud and strong under his ribcage he had to place his palm over his chest to make sure he catches it if it’s jumping out of his body. His vision was fading away and he was falling. 

“Geralt?” Jaskier’s voice was velvety but it was ruined with worry as he called after him from the other side of the door. If his own blood wouldn’t race in his veins so loudly, he could hear the other’s heartbeat as well when Jaskier stood by his bedroom’s entrance. “You are that witcher from the songs, right? T-the White Wolf or something?” Jaskier asked him cautiously and Geralt was now biting his bottom lip until his way too sharp canines cut through his skin and he could taste blood. Please just stop talking, he pleaded in his head but was unable to make any sound. “You knew him? The famous bard?” Geralt whimpered and squeezed his palms over his ears. “H-how is that possible? It was centuries ago.” Jaskier’s voice was confused and Geralt heard three tiny thumps on the door. One for each of his palms and one for his forehead as Jaskier sighed against the wood. “I was named after him. Julian Alfred Pankratz.” He continued to whisper into the door but he hoped Geralt could still hear him. “I found out who he was in the museum and I liked the name Jaskier so I borrowed it. It seemed like a good idea to be named after the greatest bard who ever lived.” He chuckled bitterly and Geralt’s chest was aching. “That’s why you acted so strangely earlier? Because of my name? You knew him, right? Those songs were written about you.” The brunet said under his breath and Geralt could feel Jaskier’s concern and fear grow in every passing second. “Can we talk? Geralt please, I... I am not okay. I just watched my best friend being slaughtered by s-something I didn’t even know existed and... I just... please. I need answers. I’m confused and terrified and probably in shock and... I just... Please?” Geralt heard the steady dripping and could taste the saltiness of Jaskier's tears in the air. 

Jaskier was standing by the door with his forehead pressed against the wood and fingers crawling on the hard surface as he cried once again. He needed answers. He was always headstrong and impatient and had an urge to be the one who always knows everything, but now he was scared to death and just wanted some comfort. And for fuck knows why he trusted Geralt even though he knew nothing about him. The man was something special, something like Jaskier never met or seen before and he was captured by that. And he owed his life to this grouchy man who seemed to be just as lost as he was. He sniffed and wiped his cheeks with the heels of his palms as he stepped away from the door. He turned around to walk back to the kitchen and ready chug down the whole bottle of whiskey in one go if he has to wait until the man comes out of his bedroom, but was quickly disturbed when he heard the round door handle click and Geralt stepped onto the narrow hallway. Jaskier just blinked up at him. He somehow was expecting tears and some shaking, but no, the witcher was like a marble statue as always, with his scowl back on his face and seemingly being unbothered by the fact that he had a possible panic attack just a few minutes ago. Like someone who had to deny his feelings throughout his whole life. What was this man forced to do to make him be able to shut down his emotions like it was just a switch on the wall? Jaskier was stunned. It was just as impressive as it was horrifying at the same time. 

“I have some questions.” Jaskier said snapping out of his thoughts and Geralt nodded sharply but none of them moved towards the kitchen or living room. “At least a hundred.” The brunet clarified it and Geralt just gave a nod again. “Are you going to answer them?” Jaskier's voice was strong, it wasn’t a question more like a command, and the mutant just nods again feeling like an absolute idiot as Jaskier just smiled at him and turned around to walk back into the kitchen. Geralt followed him and took the chair at the opposite end of the table from where Jaskier sat down with a groan. “Okay. So, how old are you again because those songs are at least seven-hundred years old.” 

“Older.” Geralt mumbled and Jaskier was now chewing on his bottom lip before he was thinking about the next question. 

“So... so you are immortal then?” 

“Witchers age slower than humans usually but I... I don’t age.” Geralt managed to croak it out but was still avoiding to look at those blue eyes because he was a coward and a weak man. 

“Okay... that’s sound actually pretty awesome for the first time but if I think about it, it must be really terrible.” Jaskier blabbed and in the second he saw Geralt’s eyebrows knit together he winced at his own stupidity. “Fuck, I'm sorry, that sounded so rude. I mean, I can’t imagine living for so long alone and lonely and...” Geralt snapped his eyes at the other who was now squirming in his seat. “I mean, I just thought you are lonely because of-of you know...” Jaskier looked around in the house and yes, Geralt knew exactly what he meant. Yennefer told him many times that his house looks like an abandoned building but he always just shrugged it off. No matter how many paintings and framed photos the mage gave to Geralt, they all ended up in the darkness of his basement, hidden somewhere in a box. “I’m sorry Geralt.” Jaskier whispered, and the witcher had to close his eyes for a second and concentrate on his breathing. “So, you knew him, right? The bard Jaskier?” 

“Hm.” Geralt grunted as an answer and his yellow eyes were back on the young man’s face. 

“You two were friends?” He asked and Geralt had a thick, growing lump in his throat. _ I loved him.  _ He wanted to say but he was never brave enough to actually say that out loud and he will not have that strength now either. “I guess he wasn’t immortal like you.” Jaskier voice was not more than a slow breath but it managed to make the silver-haired man shiver. “I am sorry.” 

“Your name.” Geralt hissed and gathered around all his power to form actual sentences. “You said you were named after him.” Jaskier now looked even sadder than before even though he had the tiny, forced smile on his face. 

“Yes, I was. That’s the only  _ legacy  _ I have from my parents.” Jaskier murmured and Geralt frown deepened on his face as the other let out a shaky sigh. “I was left in an orphanage after I was born with nothing but a letter with my name on it.” Jaskier leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest tightly. It couldn’t be a coincidence to leave there a child with Jaskier’s name who happened to grow up and look exactly like  _ his  _ bard. “When I grew up I tried to find my family but the only thing I could find was the ballads from this bard who lived hundreds of years ago and shared my name.” Geralt was at a loss of words. It must be some magic. A spell to bring back Jaskier to life. But who would do that? Nobody was capable of something like that, it was impossible and he knew it damn well because he tried everything after Jaskier’s death. He went to every corner of the world to speak with every mage and necromancer he could find. He read every single letter in every book he was able, but there was no such spell. “What is going to happen with me now?” The brunet’s voice tore him out of his thoughts as the boy watched him with his tired, tear-soaked eyes. 

“We will place you under protection until I catch the monsters and after when everything is settled you are free to return to your life.” He explained but Jaskier’s face was clouded with concern and Geralt could smell the anxiety in the air. 

“Can I stay with you until this monster hunting nonsense is over?” Jaskier asked with a dash of hope in his voice and the mutant needed a couple of seconds to keep his composure when those words left those pink, swollen lips. He had to exhale to calm himself down and be able to answer the question. 

“I’m the one working on this case. I can’t keep an eye on you and hunt he monsters down at the same time.” He said harshly and as soon as he said it, the air was thick with disappointment and Jaskier’s cheeks were flushed bright red. 

“So, I can’t stay here?” Jaskier didn’t look at the man in front of him as he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt but didn’t miss the sound when the witcher groaned in frustration. 

“No.” Even if Geralt wanted him to stay here, he couldn’t let that happen. No matter how many rules he broke today, there was a line he will not cross and put this man in even bigger danger. But if he wanted to be honest with himself, he wanted this man out of his house, out of his life as soon as possible. It was too painful for him to watch Jaskier, to hear his voice call out his name again, to see his cheeky smile and let his scent wrapped around him. Geralt was weak and he wanted to forget that there is a man in this world who laughs like  _ his  _ bard, someone who would fit just as perfectly in his arms as  _ his  _ Jaskier. No. “I need to make a phone call.” He cleared his throat and stood up to walk into his bedroom. Jaskier just sat there, looking at the man’s broad back as he walked away with his heart hammering loudly in his chest. He couldn’t explain why, but this man captured his attention since the first time he saw him in the pub. Even before he turned around, he felt his cheeks heat up as he rammed his eyes over those strong legs and toned back. Geralt was stunning, he thought when the man faced him in the bar. His milky skin, with his white hair and amber eyes. Gods, Jaskier was overwhelmed how gorgeous the man was yet it quickly turned into horror as he saw Essi’s... 

“Fuck.” He choked. She got killed because of him. The guilt was crawling under his skin like a fiery rod pushed under his fingernails. It was agonizingly painful. He never felt so lonely in his life. His only friend died because of him. He had no one and the only person he felt like he can trust will leave him soon and Jaskier will probably never see Geralt again. It was too much. The brunet crossed his arms on the table and leaned his head on his hands. His body was still in shock. Trying to recover from the adrenaline rush. Jaskier was trembling as he tried to even out his breathing. He shut his eyes and tried to calm down his body. He couldn’t remember when he fell asleep on the kitchen table in Geralt’s house. 

Geralt was waiting in his bedroom as he dialled Yennefer’s number and his phone hummed in his ear with the long beeps. 

“You hang up on me and you are calling me back  _ now  _ ?” The mage's voice came out as a snarl and Geralt sat down at the end of his bed. 

“Yen.” 

“What’s going on Geralt?” 

“I need you to come to my house.” Geralt whispered and could hear how Yennefer started to walk faster on the other end of the line, wherever she was now. 

“I can be there in a couple of hours Geralt, I just need to finish this...” 

“Now, Yennefer.” The witcher growled so loudly and guttural the phone went silent for a couple of seconds. “Please!” He pleaded again trying hard to calm down his breathing. “Use a portal. I’m in my bedroom.” He was holding onto his mobile so hard he was sure the screen will crack once he finishes this phone call. 

“Give me a few minutes.” The mage just sighed after a minute and hang upon him. Geralt had his elbows dug into his thighs and his head dropped into his palms. His legs were shaking and no matter how hard he glared at his limbs, he couldn’t stop it. He waited and it seemed like hours were passing until there was a small sizzling in the air, then a bright light glow making shadows of his furniture dance all around the walls. He didn’t lift his head as Yennefer stepped through the portal and closed it behind herself. He could saw her expensive shoes on her delicate feet as she stood just right in front of him. 

“Are you going to explain what is going or what?” Her voice was annoyed and Geralt slowly straightened up to catch those lilac eyes. “Oh fuck.” Yennefer gasped and she was kneeling in front of him in a second, closing his quivering hands into her small, warm palms. “What happened?” She asked and looked from one amber eye to the other one, trying to read Geralt’s mind but it was too chaotic in there to make any sense out of it. Yen frowned as she placed one of her hand on Geralt’s jaw and the man leaned into the touch. “Geralt talk to me, I can’t see your thoughts they are too messed up.” She asked gently and Geralt only nods once before he stood up and pulled the mage with him to stand. Yennefer knit her black, perfectly shaped eyebrows as the witcher walked to the door and left the room without a word. “Geralt?” Yen’s voice was now higher a bit, annoyed as she marched after the monster hunter and followed him into the kitchen. “What happens...” The mage choked on his own words and clasped her hands over her mouth as her purple eyes widened in shock. Geralt didn’t turn around, he was leaning against the kitchen counter once again, staring out of the small window above the sink. Yen’s scent went haywire as she stood there and stared at the young man sleeping at the table with his head placed on his crossed arms. “Geralt?” She whispered, glancing over for a second to the witcher whose head was now lowered and his shoulders dropped but didn’t look at her. Yennefer averted her eyes back on the lithe frame of the brunet’s and she stepped closer. “Geralt is this...” She tried to ask again, but the mutant just shook his head without a word. Yennefer left her hands down and breathed in slowly as she spun around on her heels and walked back to Geralt’s bedroom and sat down on the bed. It was only a couple of seconds until Geralt closed the door behind his back and leaned against it with his arms crossed over his chest to hide how much they were shaking. 

“I thought I lost my mind but you can see him as well.” He mumbled and Yennefer looked up at him with such an unreadable face Geralt had to glare at something else. 

“How is that possible?” 

“You tell me.” Geralt shrugged and could feel her anger prickle like a small lighting in the air. 

“He looks just like him. It can’t be...” Her voice faded away like she remembered something important but after a second a frown appeared on her face again. 

“It’s not just that.” Geralt grunted and Yen looked up at him. “It’s him.” He said and for a second the mage just stared at him before she snorted. 

“Don’t be stupid. He looks like him but...” Yen couldn’t finish what she wanted to say because Geralt snarled at her, bearing his sharps, white teeth as he pushed himself away from the door. 

“His name is Julian Alfred Pankratz but he calls himself Jaskier.” He hissed and Yennefer was now gaping at him. Her eyes were large and she looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “He smells like him. He walks like him. He sounds like him.” Geralt barked, not caring about how confused Yen looked, and before the mage could respond anything he turned around quickly and pushed the stray strands of silver hair out of his face. “It’s him, Yen. I don’t know how. I don’t know why. But it’s him.” Geralt muttered and glanced over his shoulder to see the mage watch him with a scowl. 

“What are you going to do?” Her voice was breathless like she was still trying to find answers in the mutant’s mind and Geralt laughed bitterly at that. 

“Nothing. I want you to take him away so I can finish this case.” 

“What?” Now Yennefer raised her voice as she stood up quickly and grabbed Geralt’s shoulder to turn him around so she can face the man. “What do you mean nothing? It’s Jaskier.  _ Your  _ Jaskier.” 

“I know.” Geralt growled and Yennefer’s eyebrows knit together from anger. 

“So? You can’t just let him walk away and have his memories be erased.” She nearly shouted and Geralt just stood there and stared at her. 

“That is exactly what I'm going to do.” He grunted and before he could move or react Yennefer snapped him on his face. The sound echoed in the room as the mage’s palm and fingers collided with Geralt’s sharp cheekbones and his head was cocked to the side, his hair falling over his eyes as his cheek started to sting from the hit. 

“Have you lost your mind?” Now she was really shouting, not caring about waking up the sleeping man in the kitchen. “This is the man you love for how many years now Geralt? This is your second chance to be with him. To  _ tell  _ him. To...” 

“Watch him die again?” Geralt shouted back and Yennefer’s eyes widened, her painted, red lips fell apart. “Take him away and let me finish my job.” He snarled like a feral wolf and Yen just shook her head stepping back away from him. 

“You can’t be serious. You can’t do this to yourself.” 

“Take. Him. Away.” He hissed and Yennefer’s eyes teared up. Geralt was startled by that for a moment, but he was too enraged to care about his friend right now. 

“It would be the biggest mistake of your life. This is a gift, Geralt. He is a miracle.” She spoke so softly Geralt felt like a beast comparing to her as he stood there, panting from fury and baring his teeth like a rabid animal. “Please don’t do this. Just... just think about what will you lose again.” Yennefer reached for him to place her palm on Geralt’s chest, but the witcher was quicker as he wrapped his fingers around her narrow wrist before she could touch him. 

“I’m leaving. Take him away and erase his memories when I'm done.” He snarled and tried to not squeeze Yennefer’s arm too tightly. 

“Geralt, please!” The witcher just hissed at her pleading. 

“Once it’s over, we are never going to talk about this again, Yen.” He said so low and animalistic it was more like a growl than actual human language and he let go of the mage’s arm. “You will never mention him again. Promise me!” Yennefer just stood there, studying his yellow eyes before she pursed her lips and nod her head. Geralt studied her for a second before he turned around and walked out of the room to find himself lock gaze with a pair of sky-blue eyes. 

“Oh, I-I'm sorry I heard shouting.” Jaskier stuttered as he stumbled back against the wall as Geralt stormed out of his bedroom nearly running him over. The witcher looked frightened for a moment as he glared at the brunet but his frown took over quickly as he moved away from the door. “Is everything okay?” Jaskier wondered after him, watching as the man marched through the house towards the front door. “Are you leaving?” Jaskier called after him, running a few steps to catch the witcher who seemed to freeze as he grabbed the door handle. 

“My friend is in my bedroom. She will look after you and take you somewhere safe.” Geralt explained hurriedly and could taste Jaskier’s confused scent on the tip of his tongue as the brunet just stood behind him placing his weight from one foot to the other. 

“Okay?” He said but it turned out more like a question as he kept staring at the silver-haired man who was ready to leave and moved to open the door. “Wait.” Jaskier yelped as he reached for Geralt’s arm and grabbed his leather jacket just below his elbow. The man visibly shivered and Jaskier considered it for a second to let him go but then Geralt slowly sighed and turned over to face him. Jaskier pulled back his hands from the witcher like his fingers got burned from the touch. “When will I see you again?” He asked and Geralt’s scowl turned into a pained grimace as he lifted his amber eyes to look at Jaskier for one last time. “C-can I see you again?” He tried again as he realized what that look meant from the other man and Geralt just slowly shook his head. Jaskier blinked and could feel his heart beat faster than before. “Why not?” He licked his bottom lip and he could see the way that yellow glare followed the small movement and Geralt clenched his jaw. “Y-you promised me a coffee.” He tried to grin but it was hard with how his lips were trembling. 

“It’s not safe.” Geralt finally grunted something and Jaskier just frowned at that. 

“I wanted to thank you for saving my life.” He tried again with a smile but Geralt looked like a rubber band ready to snap in any second. 

“No need.” The witcher only mumbled and Jaskier just stood there, watching the man he only knew for a couple of hours but already managed to save him and change his life forever. He wanted to get to know him. How couldn’t he? Geralt was not only breathtakingly beautiful but he was also full of mystery and stories he wanted to hear. “You will be safer without me.” Geralt assured him and moved to turn around again. 

“Thank you, Geralt.” Said Jaskier looking into those amber eyes once again, and he already knew he will never forget this man, no matter how long he will live. 

“Hm.” Hummed the man in return and slipped through the door before Jaskier could stop him again and locked it after he left. The brunet just stood there staring at the entrance, somewhat hoping that Geralt will come through it again and take Jaskier with him. But he didn’t. He could hear the car’s engine rumble as Geralt drove away and he just stands there. 

“Hey!” A female voice called out from the kitchen and Jaskier jumped as the stranger managed to scare him out of his skin. 

“F-fucking hell.” He stumbled and he spun around with his palms clasped over his chest. There was a woman leaning against the kitchen table with her hands inside the pockets of her expensive, designer coat. She watched Jaskier with her chin held up high as her purple eyes seemed to see through him and Jaskier squirmed. “Everyone who is involved with monsters has to be this bloody attractive?” He mumbled gesturing towards the gorgeous but at the same time terrifying woman who just raised one elegant black eyebrow on her perfect face and chuckled. 

“You must be Jaskier.” She said with a grin and the man just offered a small smile in return. “We need to talk.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys want to come and talk with me about how Joey Batey is a feral great british baked bean you can find me on twitter.
> 
> @doberainbow
> 
> Don't forget to wash your hands!
> 
> Now, sashay away!


	4. The bottom of the rabbit hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt tries to busy himself with work to forget about Jaskier, but a certain black haired mage keeps showing up and reminding him how stupid he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you! Yes you! 
> 
> Another chapter here!  
> I have to say, I got some truly amazing messages and comments and I cannot be grateful enough<3
> 
> Y'all are the best!
> 
> PS: I am just a small foreign potato so please forgive me for my grammar mistakes!

The drive to the local base of the Continent was nothing but a blur. Geralt’s head was spinning. He never thought anything will be this difficult as leaving Jaskier in his house. Every muscle, every damn, mutated part of his body was protesting as he walked through that door. His lungs were aching without Jaskier’s lavender scent. He had to force his legs to move away and get into his car. 

“Fuck.” He snarled. He left him there with Yennefer. It was a mistake because, well, it was Yen. He never knows what was going on inside her head but he remembered the way the mage looked at him when he asked her to take Jaskier away from him. Yennefer understood how much it hurt him. Geralt trusted her with his life and couldn’t leave Jaskier in better hands, but it didn’t mean it was any less painful. He should text her and ask her to crack the windows open to get rid of Jaskier’s smell before he goes home. Before he goes home and pretends it never happened. To pretend he never met  _ his  _ bard again and was too coward to face him. 

He fucked it up. 

Geralt parked in front of the building which looked like any other office complex in this area, but it was heavily protected with many spells to keep away strangers. He sat there for a second in his car trying to build up his composure from scratch, before he opened the door and walked away from his vehicle, ready for whatever punishment will be thrown at him after the mess he created earlier today. 

Geralt not necessarily disliked his  _ colleagues,  _ he simply didn’t take the time and effort to get to know anyone in the building, and honestly, nobody was queueing to be his friend either. Everyone feared him and avoided to even use the same lift as him while he was here like he was some sort of leper. It was nothing unusual. Meanwhile, humanity greeted him with open arms because nobody knew he was a mutant, everyone else who actually knew what he was was repelled by Geralt. There was nothing new about how he was treated. Not only he was the last witcher on Earth, but he was also immortal and that just pissed everyone off around him. Yennefer on the other hand had many friends here. She was smart enough to not fight but flirt her way through people until she was important enough to let her do whatever the hell she wanted to do. Geralt meanwhile remained to be just a butcher. Of course, no one was ever brave enough to say that to his face, but he heard them gossip behind his back. He got some appalling looks every time when he showed up covered in monster guts back in a tavern hundreds of years ago and barmaids fainted from the sight of him. And now he got the same glares and disgusted stares but from people who did the same job as him. He was used to it. He had centuries to get used to it and even though Geralt’s skin was thick, it was different now in one way. He had nobody by his side standing up for him when someone called him a beast. Not like he ever needed that, but it did something with his heart every time when Jaskier lectured someone about their rudeness and ignorance. Each time Jaskier started a fight because some drunk arsehole called Geralt a monster, the witcher’s chest tightened as he dragged away from the shouting bard. Now there was nobody to sing about how he saved human lives while he risked his own. He had no one who thought he was more than a mutant. 

Geralt shook his head to let that thought fly away as he entered the building. The atmosphere always changed when he stepped through the door, no matter how many times he was here. It seemed to get colder, people stopped chatting and started to whisper instead, like Geralt cared about whatever they were gossiping about. He could feel every single eye on himself as he walked to the lift and waited. He could smell the stench of disgust in the air and heard the rapid heartbeats all over the lobby. It was nothing new. 

His boss was fuming, but again, he just as everyone else, was too scared of him to speak his mind. Geralt will not get paid for this hunt as a punishment for breaking some rules, and he had two days to hunt down the succubi's nest in absolute secret, away from the public eye, like he should have done it the first time. He needed to write his report about what happened back in the pub and they will start an internal investigation to see if he made any lethal mistakes or tried to endanger the privacy of the Continent. 

He was ordered to sit in one of the interrogation room and was questioned about the whereabouts of Jaskier, as he was an eyewitness and potential next victim because they had to make sure he was under protection. Geralt calmly explained everything about the case, except the part where he found out  _ his  _ bard who died centuries ago came back to life to haunt him, and the two men who lead the investigation against him assured Geralt about Jaskier’s safety. Geralt stiffly thanked that and tried to look uninterested while his heart was beating in his chest insanely quick. They wanted to tell him where Jaskier will be kept, so he can keep in touch with him and ask any questions from him, regarding the case, but Geralt refused to listen to it and walked away. It was better if he didn’t know where they will hide Jaskier because he wasn’t sure he will be able to keep himself away from the brunet. After all, Geralt wasn’t as strong and brave as everyone seemed to think when it came to Jaskier. Only if they knew what weight he carried on his shoulders, and how fragile he become as soon as he saw Jaskier again. 

He can’t afford to go down that spiral again. It took him decades to claw himself out of the hole he dug and jumped into and he came out of there as a different man. 

After Jaskier’s death, he was nothing but a vessel. Nothing else but flesh and bones and heart-wrenching agony. He was hollow since the second  _ his  _ bard’s heart stopped beating and those blue eyes lost their shine. Yennefer of course stayed with him. If it wasn’t for her, Geralt would be dead by now. Yen was the one who forced him to eat and drink. She cast spells on Geralt so he could have blessed, dreamless nights. She held him for hours and days when he did nothing just howled in his dark room. It took him months to function again alone. To wake up in the morning and leave his room and eat without being asked to do it. It took him years to return to his pattern and be the White Wolf again. 

The first few years were the worst. Everywhere he went he was asked about Jaskier. People were giving their condolences, strangers were patting him on his back and told their favourite stories about  _ his  _ bard. Geralt didn’t show it how much it tortured him, he only thanked the prayers and wishes, he smiled at the anecdotes and when he returned to his room he fell into pieces. He ended up way too many times on the floor, leaning against a wall gasping for air. 

The songs were not helping either. Geralt never really knew how many ballads Jaskier wrote about him, for him, but they seemed to never run out. No matter where he went. No matter how far away he wandered. In every tavern and village and market, there was someone singing, humming, or whistling one of Jaskier’s creations. Like a curse, it was following him and he couldn’t run away far enough to escape. 

He missed him. He missed everything about him. The way his eyes glanced over at Geralt while he performed to make sure the witcher was still there and listening. The way his fingers lingered just a little bit too long between his locks when he insisted on washing Geralt’s hair because apparently, he just made it worst with his brute witcher hands. The way he curled up against him when they haven’t got enough coins to pay for two rooms and they shared a bed. The way he frowned at Geralt when he got injured in a fight. The way he seemed to forget about the world and his surroundings when he was composing a new song. The way his heart skipped every single time when Geralt touched his arms or shoulders to get his attention. The way Jaskier patiently waited years for Geralt to get his head out of his arse and confess how much he loved  _ his  _ bard, but he never got the guts to do it. 

Geralt missed everything about Jaskier. Even the things he always found irritating about the poet. The way he seemed to never shut up. He missed it when he was spending days alone with only Roach and had nobody to talk to. The way Jaskier sang about Geralt’s insecurities he never even admitted to himself but the bard seemed to know all of them. Yes. He missed how much of an open book he was for Jaskier. He missed the trust between them. The way they sought each other’s company even though Geralt never admitted it out loud, Jaskier knew it. Fuck, he hoped he knew how much he craved for him. He had to know. Geralt as much of an emotionally underdeveloped being he was, he tried to show it how much he cared about Jaskier. Especially in the last few years, they spent together. Geralt talked more around the bard, and Jaskier was thirstily swallowing down every single word he spilled from his lips. The brunet was trembling from happiness each time when Geralt offered him to ride on Roach behind him in the saddle, and he could smell Jaskier’s excitement as he wrapped his arms around Geralt’s waist and pushed his face between the witcher’s shoulder blades. They shared rooms more often than not and even learned to share baths to save some coins. At least, that’s what Geralt lied to himself when he woke up the next morning hugging Jaskier close to his chest with a foolish smile on his face. 

They never crossed the line. They never even discussed where that line was, they just... rolled with it. Jaskier after a while kept returning to Geralt each night instead of spending the evening with some noblewomen, and Geralt wasn’t visiting brothels anymore. They spend their nights together, laying in the dark, chatting about everything and nothing, wishing deep down to have the courage to reach over the bed and drag the other closer, and destroy that invisible line between them once and for all. They never did. They were both cowards. Geralt of course was a bigger one. Jaskier constantly teased him and flirted and it would have been so easy to just shut him up with a kiss. But Geralt was a weak man, and an idiot as well. He was too afraid it was only a flirt and nothing more and he would ruin their friendship. Even when Jaskier was choking on his own blood, gasping for air and begging, he was too afraid to tell him. He will never forgive that to himself. 

He needed to go in the morgue again to see the new bodies. The three drunk men from the pub and the blonde bartender Essi, all laid on the chrome tables. The pathologist as always was not looking him in the eye as Geralt asked some questions, but it was nothing unusual about their murder. The man assured Geralt that the girl, Essi Daven, had a quick and painless death, and with that, Geralt pulled back the white sheet to cover her up and left the cold room without looking back. 

He had to go back to the bar and once he got there, it was already the middle of the night. He was mentally exhausted but he kept ignoring the feeling, just as he ignored the several missed calls and messages from Yennefer, and he left his phone in the car as he walked over the road to the pub. They already removed the yellow police tape from the doors as the place was magically cleaned and everyone's memories were erased by mages who were involved with the chaos that happened here. It was an easy job for the Continent to find the witnesses and cast a simple spell on them to make them forget what they saw. Removing the video of him casting Aard and being chased by feral beasts from the internet was a bit more complicated and time-consuming, but the organisation has many people working on it. Geralt had only one job. Find the succubus nest and kill them before they hurt anyone else. After that he will have all the time on this earth to hate himself and enjoy the misery, he forced himself into. But as long as he kept himself busy, he could pretend he didn’t make the biggest mistake of his life and ignore the way his brain kept bringing up memories of  _ his  _ bard in any given second. 

No matter what cleansing spell they used in the pub, as soon as Geralt walked in he could still smell the stench of death in the air and he could taste copper on the tip of his tongue. A succubus always has a sweet distinct smell, like how lust or arousal smelled like. It was too sugary and thick to be anything else, and it was easy to follow. He could trace the smell from the bar to the streets, where they chased them as he pulled Jaskier behind himself and ran. It was faded, covered with the smell of strangers, but if he concentrated strong enough, he could still ‘feel’ the monster’s steps on the concrete. They were stupid enough not to separate from each other’s and flee in different directions, but succubi were always bond together in a pack and when they were in danger, they usually stay together to increase their strength. It was easier to find them, but harder to kill when they attacked in groups. 

Trying to hunt down a succubus nest was something so simple, and he felt so grateful for this simplicity to let himself focus on something else than Jaskier. He needed this, to avert his thoughts away from the brunet. It was easy to just keep being busy, follow the trail, and talk with different individuals who knew what was going on in the dark. To have a purpose rather than just sit at home and wallow in self-pity and sorrow. It was easy to forget to go home until he spoke with everyone and everything who could know anything about the whereabouts of this pack of monsters. It was easy to be the heartless witcher and push people against walls until they said whatever he wanted to hear and give him another lead to follow on. It was easy to ignore how his phone vibrated each time when he got a new message from Yennefer until she gave up. 

Geralt was in his car again. The sun was up and the roads were busy as he just sat there and snapped out of his thoughts. He had no idea how long he was lost in his head. He had no idea when was the last time he ate something or stopped freaking out for a second. He released his hair from the high ponytail which was rather disheveled now, to tie his locks up again tightly and smooth back the strands which were stubbornly falling over his eyes. 

_ “I can’t clean out your wound if your hair is in the way  _ _ Geralt  _ _ .”  _ _ Jaskier groaned as he tried to pull away from the witcher’s silver locks from the blood on his skin. “Gods, you are a mess.” The bard just whined as he wiped his palms into his trousers.  _ _ Geralt only grunted. He needed help to clean a bitemark from a  _ _ bruxa on the back of his neck but  _ _ Jaskier was just being a pain in the arse about it as always.  _ _ Geralt had enough of it. The gaping wound was stinging and his skin was ticklish as the blood run down on his back slowly. He grabbed the small leather string from his hair and yanked it way too harshly than necessary. Jaskier just blinked as the man hooked the leather string under his hair and pulled it all up in a high ponytail securing it there, so Jaskier can just finally clean the bitemark and stop complaining.  _

_ “Better?” He hissed looking over his shoulder to see the poet gape at him with his eyes wide open.  _ _ Geralt knit his eyebrows together and stared at the other. Jaskier’s heart was beating faster now and not from anger because Geralt got himself hurt again, no, it was something different. He could see as the bard eyes followed the line of the back of his neck then a second later snapped back to  _ _ Geralt’s yellow eyes.  _

_ “Y-yeah. Much better.”  _ _ Jaskier’s voice was weak and raspy, not like his usual jolly and way too enthusiastic tone.  _ _ Geralt frowned as the poet cleared his throat and licked his bottom lip quickly while he reached for the cloth to wipe down the dirt from Geralt’s neck. “I’ve never seen you wear your hair like this before.” He mumbled as he avoided Geralt’s glare and started to clean his wound.  _

_ “Hm.”  _ _ Geralt grunted and turned back to face the wall as the brunet worked gently on his skin.  _

_ “You should.”  _ _ Jaskier whispered as he softly tried to clean him as much as he could without hurting the witcher. “Wear your hair like this more often, I mean.” He murmured and  _ _ Geralt could feel  _ _ Jaskier’s breath on the back of his neck as he spoke. “It’s a good look on you.” He hummed and Geralt's chest tightened as Jaskier started to sing a soothing melody quietly.  _

The memory punched the air out of his lungs as it vividly flashed before his eyes and Geralt’s hands fell away from his hair into his lap. He was going down that rabbit hole again. He pushed the back of his head against the cushion and closed his eyes for a second, only to be disturbed with his phone resonate on the other seat. 

“Fuck.” Geralt reached for it and received the call. 

“I’m going to murder you I hope you know that.” Yen’s voice was guttural. 

“What do you want?” He only sighed as a response. 

“What I want? Are you fucking kidding me? You left me there with him and you ran away.” 

“I know. I was there.” He could hear how Yennefer gritting her teeth together on the other end of the line. 

“You bloody idiot. Why did you do that? Have you lost your mind? It’s Jaskier we are talking about. You got him back again and you run?” 

“It’s not the same.” He grumbled and closed his eyes. 

“It could be. It’s not too late I know where he is now and...” 

“Don’t. I told you I don’t want to know.” He hissed through his teeth. 

“Of course you do. Geralt don’t be stupid. I know it hurts. I know you are afraid you will lose him again but...” 

“I told you to never mention this again, Yen. I fucking asked you.” Geralt growled and he could hear the mage snort. 

“Yes, because I’ve ever listened to you. Look, this is a huge mistake. Get your head out of your arse and talk to him.” 

“Yen.” 

“I did, you know. Talked with him. Geralt, he really is Jaskier, your Jaskier, and you know it.” 

“Yen.” Geralt tried again but the woman was too angry at him to listen. 

“You could be with him again. Make it right this time. You could even tell him about how...” 

“YENNEFER!” Geralt lost it, his voice was just rushing out of his throat and he couldn’t control the volume of it. “I will never see him again. I don’t want to see him again and you will not talk about him again.” 

“Geralt...” 

“Don’t!” Geralt snapped at her. “He will have his memories erased as soon as I finish with the hunt and he will never see me again and  _ you, you  _ will stay the fuck out of it.” Yennefer was silent for a few seconds before she weakly swallowed whatever curse she wanted to throw at him. 

“You’re killing yourself.” Geralt couldn’t help the bitter laugh that left his mouth. 

“Rather me than him.” He said and ended the phone call. 

He knew it was a mistake. Of course, he fucking knew it, since every bone in his body protested against staying away from Jaskier, but he had to do it. He couldn’t put him in danger again because of what he was. It was his fault after all. Everything that happened with  _ his  _ bard. It was all his fault and the guilt was eating him alive. Jaskier would have lived a happy and long life if he never runs into Geralt in that tavern in Posada. He signed his own death warrant as soon as he came over to Geralt’s table to talk with him and Geralt knew it. They got hurt so many times, he had to save Jaskier’s life weekly and he knew it back then he should let the bard go, scare him away and give him a chance to have a great life. But he never did. He let Jaskier follow him into his early death. He was too selfish to tell him to leave. He loved his company too much and Geralt was weak. He was too weak to do the right thing seven-hundred years ago, but he will not make the same mistake again. No. Even if it kills him, he will stay away from Jaskier and let him enjoy his life without Geralt in it. 

Geralt didn’t know what time it was when he finally parked his car on his driveway but the sky was dark again. He was so close to tracking down the succubus nest, but he got a call from his superior to go home and continue the hunt the next morning. It was probably Yennefer who warned his boss about his mental and physical state. He should be fuming right now but he was too drained to feel angry. 

As soon as he walked to his door his stomach was twisting painfully. He stood there and listened. As much as he loved Yen, he wasn’t sure she will not try to go against Geralt’s wish and make him see Jaskier again. She could be vicious when she thought she was right. But no noise or any sound was coming from his house and when he unlocked his door and walked in, he was greeted by nothing but his dark, dull living room. The window in the kitchen was slightly open, Geralt could feel the breeze and fresh air coming in as he stood there and sniffed. He could still smell Yen’s perfume lingers around but there was nothing left from Jaskier and as much as he will deny this later, his heart clenched painfully. The brunet only spent maybe a couple of hours in Geralt’s house and it wasn’t enough to have that lavender scent rubbed into his walls and furnishing. He exhaled slowly as his tense muscles eased up and he sat down on his sofa without even turning on the lights in the house. Now it was the perfect time for a breakdown. 

Geralt didn’t sleep that night. The morning came and he was in the same position on the sofa, his head was thrown back over backrest as he glared at the ceiling. His room filled with orange lights from the sunrise as he finally moved to untie his boot’s laces and undress as he walked towards his bathroom. He had to take a shower before he went back to work. Although he had a bathtub, he never has taken a bath in it before. Showering was more inconvenient now. He wasn’t always cold from sleeping outside in any given weather. He used to yearn for a steaming bath ages ago. He always ended up being drenched in blood and various monster fluids. His face was always covered in dust and the rest of him was just muddy from being on the road. First, he didn’t care about something so trivial of having werewolf fur stuck to his bloody clothes for decades. He didn’t care until he met Jaskier and the troubadour kept complaining about how he reeked of monsters all the time. The bard’s obsession with being clean and smelling like a flower field grown on him during the years they spent traveling together and he found himself having a bath nearly every night. It could have been in a tavern in a small village, or a cold river somewhere hidden in a forest. It didn’t matter as long as Jaskier was there to wash his hair and scrub him until he smelled like lavender as well. 

Geralt threw his clothes into the laundry basket as he got rid of all of his layers and he placed his bulletproof vest next to the sink. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror but turned away quickly as he decided he is not ready to see the dark circles under his hollow eyes. He wasn’t really showering, more like letting the warm water wash away his self-hatred utterly unsuccessfully as he leaned against the tiles. He let the hot drops fall on him and caress his cheeks as he closed his eyes and lifted his head towards the showerhead. 

It was that moment when he realized there was no going back. He couldn’t just pretend he never met Jaskier again. There was no way he could live with this knowledge and ignore it like he wanted to. The water was burning his skin, but Geralt didn’t care. He felt like he deserved it. He stood there in the shower for Gods knows how long, until there was nothing else to feel just fiery licks of water running down on his body. 

The day was not turning out to be any easier than how it started. Geralt had to report to his superior how the case was going before he was allowed to take any further actions. He felt like having his chains yanked by a toddler. He was terrible at following rules, but the years somehow humbled him enough to stop throwing punches and only growl when he was asked to do something he would rather not. 

Hunting in a modern society was difficult. He couldn’t just frighten humans or threaten them with his grunts and swords when they refused to answer his questions. But thanks to all the painful conversations and social interactions he could forget about Jaskier for a while. Even if it was just for a second, he was grateful for it. His mind seemed to bounce back over and over again to that beaming smile and the way Geralt’s name sounded coming out of his mouth. It made him shiver every single time and it just got worse as time was passing by. 

He forgot, or more like, refused to go home again and try to sleep because he knew it was pointless. He was beyond his breaking point and was ready to lose his sanity at any given moment. Anything would be better than being left alone with nothing but his memories. This is how Geralt ended up sitting in his car in front of a busy club where the queue started to curl around the corner of the street. There was a huge possibility that one or more succubus was hunting in this club and he just needed to wait and follow them back to their nest. Geralt was sitting there without moving a muscle, trying to calm himself down and meditate. It was all ruined at that moment when his car started to shake and the air was sizzling around him. Yennefer used a portal and now was sitting on the passenger seat with a bitter scowl on her face glaring at Geralt. 

“Evening Yennefer.” He sighed and the mage frown darkened. 

“You bloody fool.” 

“It’s good to see you too. Have you put a tracker spell on me?” He lifted one eyebrow at the woman who just kept staring at him. 

“You have GPS on your phone, Geralt. What century you live in?” She snorted and finally averted her lilac eyes from Geralt while she looked out of the front window, and relaxed back into the seat. “Any developments?” 

“One of them is in the club.” Geralt murmured and Yen just breathed out slowly, blowing a strand of hair away from her eyes. 

“Once I spent a night with a succubus. It was a long time. Have I ever told you about that?” She glanced over to Geralt with a smile and the witcher just shook head. “It was out of pure curiosity.” She grinned and the mutant couldn’t help but snort as a reply. “For science, you know.” Yen shrugged and Geralt knew he will never be able to tell her how much she appreciated her company right now. So he just stayed quiet. “I wanted to know how is it to feel the ultimate desire and being so aroused you lose your mind.” She continued and Geralt could see a playful smirk on her ruby lips. “It was truly mind-blowing. Until the point when she tried to take my life of course. She was surprised when I told her I'm a mage and she can’t kill me.” Yennefer fell quiet for a second and looked down at her hands in her lap. “We talked after that for hours. She told me everything I wanted to know about their magic. All their secrets, their tricks, and spells. She was terrified of me and she begged for her life.” The witcher just kept staring at the gorgeous woman next to him as Yen closed her eyes and leaned her head against the headrest pillow. “Did you know that when a succubus casts a spell on their victims they make them fall in love? They don’t make you act like a fool. They don’t ruin the way your brain works. It’s just pure love what they make you feel.” Yennefer opened her eyes again and tilted her head to look at Geralt. “I can’t even imagine being so deep in love with someone to choose to die in their arms instead of living without them.” She whispered softly and Geralt's hands started to tremble on the steering wheel. “I loved you Geralt. I still do and there was a time once when I thought I am  _ in love  _ with you.” She smiled at him softly and reached for Geralt’s pale, quivering hands to pull them into her lap and wrap her warm fingers around them. “But when I slept with the succubus, it wasn’t like when I was with you and it broke my heart.” Yennefer chuckled but it was sad and shaky. “I thought you were the love of my life and I am yours even if it all happened because of a stupid wish. I really thought I will never love anyone as much as I loved you.” Geralt swallowed as he kept staring at the mage and Yennefer was holding his hands and rubbing small circles into his skin. “I was right about that, you know. I never loved anyone as much as I loved you. But  _ you  _ did.” She said and Geralt had to close his eyes. His whole body was shaking. “You know when I truly understood it? Twenty years ago when you showed up at my door at half-past four, so drunk you couldn’t stand on your feet and you begged me to make you forget about Jaskier.” Geralt remembered. Of course, he did, but he thought they agreed to never talk about it again. 

“Yen.” He tried to say something, anything but the mage didn’t let him. 

“I did something awfully stupid after you left that night Geralt.” She said and the witcher’s eyes snapped open when the mage let his hands go and turned back to stare at the club. “After Jaskier died I tried everything to bring him back Geralt. I swear I did but I couldn’t... there was nothing...” 

“I know.” He said and the mage sobs turned into a pained laugh. 

“I didn’t give up after I told you I did, because I hated seeing you like that. I wanted to bring him back for you Geralt. You have to believe me.” She cried and turned to look at Geralt, her lilac eyes were now shining with tears. 

“I believe you, Yen.” 

“I tried for decades. I tried every single forbidden spell I could find but none of them worked.” She hissed. “I used his hair Geralt. I-I cut off a lock of his hair to use it for the spells but it wasn’t working.” Yennefer wept and Geralt could feel his stomach twist from guilt. He had no idea how much Yennefer blamed herself for what happened. 

“Yen.” 

“No. Don’t apologize because I was stupid. I was so fucking stupid Geralt.” She snapped Geralt’s hand away when he reached to comfort her. “I tried one more spell. His hair was only enough for one more and I found this chant on a scroll in a cave fifty-something years ago. I kept it for decades but I never tried it out because it was...it was... I’ve never seen anything so complicated before.” Yennefer now was rambling and avoiding Geralt’s eyes. “Twenty years ago when you left my house after you nearly drank yourself to death I tried to bring Jaskier back one more time. I told myself it will be the last time and I was ready to fail again but...” Yennefer choked and hid her face in her palms. Geralt blood turned cold in his veins. 

“What happened?” 

“I was so stupid.” 

“Yennefer what did you do?” Geralt asked and hold the mage’s wrists to pull her hands away from her face and look her in the eye. 

“I didn’t know it worked Geralt. I swear I didn’t.” She whispered and the witcher could feel his heart skip a beat. 

“How did you...” 

“I used a newborn.” She confessed and Geralt was shaking. “He had no one. His mother died while giving birth to him. He had no family, nobody to take care of him. They called me because when he was born all the lights went off in the hospital as soon as he cried out. They thought he had some magic in him so they called me to make some tests. He was so tiny and sick, Geralt. The doctors said it will be a miracle if he survives his first birthday.” She was sobbing so violently it gently shook the car. “I knew it won’t hurt him. If the spell would do anything it will just make his life better. Give him a chance to grow up. I was sure it won’t work like how I wanted it and I thought it didn’t. So I took him to an orphanage.” Yennefer went quiet and Geralt was sick in the stomach. 

“And you named him after Jaskier?” Geralt growled at her as an animal and Yen shivered at that. 

“His mother died before she could name him and nobody know her name either. She lived on the streets. I never thought he will grow up and be... be  _ him _ . I swear I didn’t know Geralt.” She muttered and Geralt couldn’t answer that. He was trying to digest everything and it made his stomach turn. “He really is Jaskier. Your Jaskier. The spell worked but I swear I didn’t know. I tested him after I finished but nothing changed. He was still that crying, frail baby. There was no magic in him and...” 

“Yennefer.” 

“No please, just listen to me.” She looked up to Geralt and he was stunned by the sheer force of emotions behind her eyes. “You cannot let him go, I know this is what you always wanted and now you have him and...” 

“Do you think I wanted  _ this  _ ?” Geralt shouted and Yennefer knit her eyebrows together. “I wanted him seven fucking hundred years ago Yen. Not now. Not after I buried him and mourned him for centuries. You can’t bring him back now and expect me to pretend he never died! I can’t... I can’t...” He choked on his words and snarled from the build-up anger. 

“I thought you wanted him.” 

“I thought so too.” Geralt whispered and before the mage could say anything else Geralt opened his lips. “Go home Yen and don’t try to change my mind again.” 

“I’m sorry.” She said softly and Geralt looked back where the people were queuing for the club. “Don’t do anything stupid please!” Yen was waiting for a moment to see if he will answer with a grunt or not, but when Geralt didn’t even move a muscle, she opened a portal with a flick of her wrist and disappeared. Geralt breathed in as her flowery perfume filled the vehicle and reached to open the door. He climbed out of his car, leaving his swords on the backseat when he slammed the door shut and marched towards the club. He was about to do something extremely stupid and there was no one to hold him back. 

“You disappeared for three days Witcher without reporting back about the case and your whereabouts and when you did show up our forensic cleaning team said it will take them 2 days to clean up your mess in that warehouse.” His boss was furious. The man was shouting from the top of his lungs as he sat in his leather chair and glared at Geralt who stood on the other side of his table with a bored look on his face, covered in blood and guts. 

“I killed the pack, I thought that was my job.” He snarled sarcastically and the man was angry enough to pop a vein in any second. 

“But not like this! You have to follow the rules, Butcher. You and your little witch friend think you are better than all of us, but I am the one who is in charge!” The man roared and Geralt felt his eyes roll back into his skull as he slowly exhaled. 

“Am I fired then?” He asked gruffly, crossing his beyond dirty arms over his chest and his superior visibly trembled from anger. 

“You’re walking on thin ice Witcher, but not yet.” He snarled and pulled a pile of papers in front of himself. “If you finished with the reports go home and wait for your new assignment.” He looked up at Geralt and grimaced. “And clean up yourself before you leave this building. We don’t need unwanted attention because of  _ you.  _ Not again.” He gestured with his chin towards Geralt’s ruined clothes and grotesque appearance. 

“Hm.” Geralt nod as he pursed his lips together and turned around to leave the office. 

“One more thing Witcher!” Called the man after him but Geralt didn’t bother to turn around he just stopped by the door. “The young man you saved got his memories erased yesterday by one of our mages. Don’t forget to sign those papers as well.” The man mumbled barely paying attention anymore and Geralt slammed the door behind himself. 

It was over. Jaskier had got freed from his memories about the monster attack. Jaskier no longer remembered Geralt. He thought he will feel the weight being lifted off from his shoulders, but as he stormed into the men’s bathroom, he felt his stomach drop. He stood by the sinks and glared at his own reflection. He looked horrifying. His hair wasn’t in a high ponytail anymore, he got his hair tie ripped out by a succubus as the beast sank her claws into Geralt’s skull. His locks were glued together in thick strands from blood and stuck to his face and neck. He had dark circles under his eyes and he wasn’t surprised by that. It was days ago when he last had any sleep at all and he hasn’t been home in nearly three days. His clothes were torn and ripped apart and he was covered in bruises. Geralt opened the tap and started to scrub the gore off his hands and forearm. The sink was quickly splattered with red dots and bloody rivers on the white surface as he washed himself furiously. 

“Charming.” Came to voice from behind him as Yennefer stepped into the bathroom and leaned against the closed door. Geralt looked up and locked eyes with the mage in the mirror. 

“Who did you resurrect now Yen? My dear mother?” He asked with a growl and Yennefer rolled her purple eyes and made an unimpressed grimace. 

“I’m not here to fight.” She stated and Geralt just huffed at that. 

“That would be the first.” He mumbled quietly but loud enough for Yennefer to hear and she throws her arms in the air with an annoyed gasp. 

“You really don’t have to be such an arse alright? I’m here to see how are you Geralt. I’m worried about you.” 

“Worried? Really Yennefer? Why is that?” Geralt snapped and spun around on his heels to face the woman. “Because you lied to me for twenty years about your experiments? Or because you brought back Jaskier without asking me about it? Or maybe because you think you have the right to control my life?” He was shouting and he knows they could hear him on the whole floor, maybe in the whole building, and probably the security guards will rush through the door in any second to drag him out of the station, but he didn’t care about any of that. Geralt just exploded and Yennefer was the one who has to take his fury because she was the only one who could handle it.

“Do you have any idea how was it to see him again?” He hissed and was now standing so close to the mage he could feel Yen’s rapid breathing on his skin. “I haven’t slept in five days. I can’t fucking eat without throwing up. I hear his voice in my head no matter where I am or what I do. I already forgot his voice Yen. I managed to forget his fucking voice and you brought him back and...” 

“Geralt stop!” Yennefer said and the witcher was taken aback for a second how weak her voice sounded comparing to Geralt’s roars. “I’m not going to apologise again for what I did and I'm not trying to control you either. I just want what is the best for you.” 

“And how would you know that?” Geralt growled at her but Yen’s face didn’t flinch or trembled when the mutant bared his teeth at her. 

“Because I know you and I  _ knew  _ you when you had Jaskier by your side. I’ve never seen you happier before. I knew how much you loved him even before you realized it and I want to see you like that again. You’re not yourself since he died and I thought it will change with time but it didn’t. It only got worse and it breaks my heart to see you like this.” Yennefer was now holding Geralt’s face between her palm, not caring about the stickiness of dried blood and dirt on his skin. Geralt’s breathing was erratic and he just stared at the mage like the first when he saw her. She was so magnificent and Geralt was cursing his own foolish heart for falling for someone so painfully fragile and mortal like Jaskier.

“Go home Geralt! I will make you some potions to help you sleep and bring them to you later and for the love of gods, take a shower, you reek.” Yennefer said and made a face as she patted Geralt on his right cheek twice before pushed the witcher away with a finger on his chest and walked out of the bathroom like she just won a battle. Geralt looked after her and for a second, he truly believed he will be alright. After all, he always had Yennefer to tell him how to live his life and scold him when he didn’t follow her instructions. Geralt let out a shaky breath and walked back to the sink to wash his face. 

Getting into his house and locking the door behind himself was like that first sip of beer after a long day at work. Geralt was beyond exhausted. Every single muscle in his body was so tense they could snap in any given second. He could feel his joints creak and pop as he untied his boots and left them by the door. He really needed a shower. Every inch of his body was covered in something gruesome. Geralt walked inside his bathroom, hitting the switch on the wall with his elbow. The small room brightened up and Geralt looked at himself in the mirror.

There were no better words to describe him but monstrous. He turned around and shook the leather jacket off his shoulders and it landed on the tiled floor with a wet thud. Even his black t-shirt under it was torn and soaked with his own blood. Geralt reached to pull the ruined material over his head when there was a small knock on his front door. Three weak taps on the wood, but it was enough for Geralt’s witchery ears to hear it. He frowned as he walked out of his bathroom. Yennefer never knocked before, she always just stepped through a portal in any ungodly hour of the day and acted like she didn’t forget to warn the witcher beforehand. At least now she was considerate enough to give Geralt the space he needed and not just appeared out of thin air. Yennefer promised to brew some potions for Geralt to help him sleep and he was considering it for a second to just grab the bottles and slam the door on the mage. He was too tired to fight again and in the last couple of times they met, Geralt ended up having a headache from shouting with her. He reached his front door and unlocked it before he yanked it open. 

“Are you possessed because I’ve never heard you knock before Ye...” Geralt mumbled with a sigh while he pulled the door open but quickly choked on the mage’s name as soon as he was punched in the guts with the heavy smell of lavender coming at him like a mad bull. It was not Yennefer standing on his porch with an uninterested scowl and her lips pursed together. 

“Hey. It’s been a while, right? I mean, only a few days but it seemed more than that. I, uh, you look great? I guess, sorry I can’t really tell, you are covered in...  _ that  _ .” Jaskier’s smile was wide and playful as he stood there like he was invited and his blue eyes roamed over Geralt’s abused body and filthy clothes. “It’s not yours right?” The brunet blinked as he gestured towards the mutant’s chest and drenched shirt. “The blood I mean.” He looked up at Geralt and his smile quickly faded into a horrified gasp. “It is? Oh, gods! Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance for you?” His eyes widened as he looked back into those amber eyes and Geralt was still frozen in his doorway. “Geralt?” Jaskier asked and stepped closer to the witcher who seemed to snap out of his shock and fully locked eyes with the brunet for the first time. 

“What...How did you...” He tried but his voice was throaty and his lips were not working properly as the other man just kept staring at him and being just  _ here _ . This can’t be happening. 

“Yennefer told me you’re finished with the hunt and I should visit you.” Jaskier tilted his head to the side and his hair fell over his left eye from the movement as he kept studying Geralt up and down, still not sure about what state was the witcher in. He looked awful. In a gorgeous way though. But he was still a gory mess. Jaskier shook his head to stop his brain wandering too far away and cleared his throat. “And I wanted to come over to thank you for saving my life and uhm, invite you out for a drink.” Jaskier continued and his voice lost its coy tone, it was lower now, more honest and a little bit shy as he waited for the witcher’s answer while he worried his bottom lip with his teeth. Geralt was still too far gone in his head to answer or react in any way as his mind kept reminding himself that this must be the sign that he really lost his sanity. He can’t be this unlucky in so many times in only one week and Yen can’t be this cruel with him. This cannot be happening with him. He already accepted the fact that Jaskier had his memories erased and yet, life truly was a bitch and Geralt was her chew toy.

“Maybe later though, when you stop bleeding out? Are you sure you’re okay Geralt?” Jaskier's concerned voice came again and the brunet stood closer to him to lean down and take a good look at the slash across his chest. “Oh fuck.” He coughed and straightened up to be in eye level with the mutant who just glared at him like Jasker was some ghost. “We need to clean out your wound like right now. Do you have a first aid kit here?” Jaskier asked and without any warning or permission, he slid inside the house next to Geralt’s body and started to walk towards the bathroom only to stop after a couple of steps and look back at the witcher who was still standing in the open door staring outside.

“Geralt?” Jaskier called out the silver-haired man’s name who seemed to shiver at that and slowly shut the door but still not turned around. Jaskier knit his eyebrows together. Maybe Geralt was in some sort of shock, and by the way, he looked, Jaskier wouldn’t be surprised if it was true. The man was paler than before and his whole body was quivering. “Geralt are you...” Jaskier tried again to get his attention but couldn’t finish his question because the man fell onto his knees with a loud bang and the brunet felt his whole body flinch at the noise as Geralt hit the floor. “Geralt!” He shouted and run to the man who was now sitting on his heels and seemed to be disorganized enough to pass out in any second. 

Geralt’s brain was short-circuited and his vision blacked out for a moment. He could only hear his own rapid breathing loud in his ears and feel two arms hold onto his shoulders as his system finally gave up and he fell onto his side in his living room with Jaskier, who tried to steady him before he hit the floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this ride!
> 
> If you want to chat you can find me on twitter. Don't be a stranger and tell me what you think!
> 
> Love you~
> 
> @doberainbow


	5. Too tired to fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt is too exhausted to fight against his emotions and just for dinner, he let's Jaskier stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Good morning. Good morning. In less than an hour aircrafts from here will join others from around the world and you will be launching the largest aerial battle in the history of mankind."
> 
> Don't mind me I was just watching Independence Day...
> 
> How are you all doing?

The first was the feeling of someone holding his face between their palms. His cheeks were on fire under the light touch and he could feel those fingers gently caress his cheekbones. Jaskier was panicking. Geralt dropped on the floor like a sack of potatoes and he tried hard to make the man sit up but his eyes rolled back into his head and he closed his eyelids.

“Fuck. Shitshitshit. Geralt?” He kneeled next to the man and held his pale face between his hands. Geralt didn’t even flinch at that and Jaskier groaned. The man was covered in blood, only his face and hands were washed clean. His clothes were torn and he had deep claw marks running over his chest. “Geralt can you open your eyes for me please?” He begged and gently patted the man on his cheeks but there was no reaction coming from the witcher.

“Gods,” Jaskier grunted and grabbed Geralt’s black shirt by his collar. “Please don’t kill me when you wake up.” He asked the unconscious man and raised his right arm ready slap the witcher on the face when Geralt’s dark eyelashes fluttered and he scrunched up his nose. “Oh thank fuck.” Jaskier sighed and dropped his lifted hand as the man slowly opened his golden eyes. His gaze was alarmed and he needed a few seconds to recall where he was before he looked up at the brunet who kneeled beside him and the frown was back on Geralt's face in an instant.

“What the fuck was that?” Jaskier heaved a sigh of relief and sat back down on his heels. Geralt shook his head and pushed himself up to sit next to Jaskier who kept glaring at him. “Are you alright?” The brunet moved closer a bit but Geralt was hastily on his feet before Jaskier could touch him. His cheeks were still prickling where Jaskier held his skin and he wanted to scrub the feeling off. Jaskier yerked away as the witcher stood on his feet like he wasn’t just passed out on the floor a moment ago and he looked up at the silver-haired man. Geralt seemed to be out of breath like he just ran a mile and Jaskier knit his eyebrows together as he straightened up.

“Geralt?” Jaskier tried once again to move closer to the man but it was Geralt who flinched away and frowned at him. “O-okay, no touching. I get it.” He joked and raised his palms up in defeat but it didn’t seem to calm the witcher down. “Do you need a hand with that?” Jaskier asked softly and looked down on the wound on Geralt’s chest and then back on his face which was still sporting a frown.

“I have two. One for the needle and one for the thread.” Jaskier grinned and gestured in the air with his fingers like he just threaded an invisible string through a needle, but Geralt’s face just becomes even gloomier at that. “N-not like I’ve ever done that before but I can sew on a button.” He shrugged and tried his hardest to lighten up the mood, but Geralt kept looking like he just bit into a lemon. “I’m not even sure if it needs stitches or not. I have never seen so much blood in my life and you... you are just covered in it and I am utterly freaked out.” He laughed and could feel the blush creep upon his cheeks as Geralt just kept fucking staring without a word.

“So, you need some help? Because you look way too calm for someone who has a gaping hole on their chest, but I guess it’s not the first time it happened to you. Or it’s because of the blood loss?” Jaskier jabbered and Geralt's heart was beating so fast and angrily in his chest he could feel it all over his body. The brunet kept glancing down on his ruined clothes and back to Geralt who was sure his face looked absolutely terrifying. “Are you feeling dizzy?” Jaskier tilted his head to the side and his fingers were fidgeting by his sides. “Do you need to sit down?” He kept asking stupid questions in that worried voice of his and when Geralt could see him try to reach for his arm he barked like a dog.

“Don’t touch me.” He bared his teeth and Jaskier pulled back his hand to his own chest with a shiver. “Fuck.” Geralt groaned as Jaskier’s smell went haywire like every damn time when he was scared and the mutant averted his eyes away from the brunet’s confused face. “Go home!” He grunted without looking at Jaskier and a second later he stormed away towards his bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him so hard it shook the whole house.

Jaskier could feel goosebumps break out all over his skin as he watched the man broad back disappear behind the door and he had a rush of various, scrambled emotions run through his head. He was scared, how couldn’t he be. Just a few days ago he witnessed his very best friend being slaughtered by some monsters and a strange man saved his life and told him all those magical beasts from the fairytales and children’s books are real and hunting for humans. He got dragged away by a mage, that’s what Yennefer told him she was and had been locked into the woman’s penthouse in the city center for days.

Yennefer as gorgeous and kind she was, still terrified Jaskier unreasonably. He couldn’t help it, but he had a feeling in his stomach that the woman could see right through him, and fuck, it was scary as hell. Jaskier kept asking Yennefer about Geralt, but the mage refused to answer any of those questions and she seemed to be way too interested in Jaskier’s past. He couldn’t tell why and he was too frightened by those cold lilac eyes to ask her. Then this morning Yennefer came through a portal scaring the soul out of Jaskier as he tried to eat his yoghurt in peace, and she told him it was over. Just like that. The succubi were killed and Jaskier can be set free. He couldn’t have been any happier at that, only to be asked to sit back down on his arse a second later and Yennefer made him swear he will never speak about this to any other human. He promised, and he got that soul-piercing stare from the mage until she smiled a moment later and hugged Jaskier. It was beyond awkward to tap the woman on her back and let her drive him to his flat like they were just two friends after a sleepover party. He was not going to walk through those portals thank you very much, even though Yennefer told him it’s perfectly safe. It was too bizarre even after what happened.

He thought Yennefer will just simply drive away as soon as he climbed out of her expensive car, but the mage turned the engine off and followed Jaskier inside the building. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as the woman walked behind him and commented on the stench of the house. He knew it was a shithole, but it was all he could afford.

_ “Would you like a cuppa?” Jaskier asked as he walked through his door and Yennefer stepped in like she was paying half of the rent and casually took a seat in the living room.  _

_ “No sugar just milk.” She smiled and Jaskier was too confused to say anything so he just marched into his kitchen to put the kettle on.  _

The whole situation was absurd. The way they sat on his rubbish couch because he didn’t own a kitchen table and had a tea with a mage. He snorted at the memory. Yennefer seemed to never run out of questions regarding his past and Jaskier tried hard to answer them as good as he could because he was afraid if he says something the woman doesn’t like, he will have his head bit off.

_ “Are you planning on seeing Geralt again?” She asked and Jaskier was focused on the way her lipstick left a perfectly shaped red mark on the side of the cup. _

_ “Uhm, he said...” _

_ “Forget about what he said. He is a bloody git. Do  _ **_ you _ ** _ want to see him again?” She raised her voice slightly and leaned a tad closer as she kept staring into Jaskier’s eyes like she could find the answer in there. It could have been sensual if the woman wouldn’t be so creepy. _

_ “Well, he saved my life. I owe him a coffee at least.” He shrugged with a blush and the mage smiled at that way too wide.  _

_ “That is good to hear. Go and visit him today. I will text you when he gets home.” Yennefer said as she finished her tea and placed the cup on the small glass table next to them.  _

_ “A-alright. Will do.” Jaskier just nodded and watched as the mage stood up and straightened out the wrinkles on her tight dress. “I never gave you my number though.” He knit his eyebrows together and the woman just stared at him with a disappointed frown on her gorgeous face. “Oh. Magic. Right. I forgot that.” He nodded like it was an obvious answer.  _

_ “I saved my number on your mobile as well. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.” She looked down at him again and Jaskier swallowed at the seer honesty behind those purple eyes. She and Geralt had the most expressive eyes Jaskier ever seen in his young life and he was way too flustered by them. _

_ “My phone is password protected.” He mumbled and Yennefer snorted and throw her thick hair over her shoulder.  _

_ “See you later Jaskier.” She grinned and the brunet stood up to go and lock the door behind the woman. “Oh and one more thing.” Yennefer said and turned around so quickly Jaskier nearly walked into her. “Geralt is all bark but no bite. He will try to push you away at first but when he gets his head out of his arse, it will be all worth it.” She said and her voice seemed playful at first like it was just a joke but the look in her eyes said otherwise.  _

_ “Duly noted.” He murmured and Yennefer just hummed at that and left with a small smirk. _

All bark no bite she said huh? Jaskier thought as he stood awkwardly in Geralt’s living room and he heard the man turn on the shower in the bathroom. He didn’t know if the witcher was aware that he was still in his house but he decided he will take Yennefer’s advice and wait until Geralt’s realises Jaskier was too stubborn to leave. This was his life now. And he was too afraid of Yennefer to go against her wish, to be honest. He was dragged into this world and it was too fascinating to walk away from it. Geralt likes it or not got involved with him as soon as he decided to save Jaskier and doesn’t give a damn about rules. He owed the witcher his life. Geralt already saved him once and the silver-haired monster hunter looked like he was the one who needed saving now. So Jaskier decided to do something he always wanted to do. He grabbed his phone and ordered enough pizza to feed a whole army.

Geralt was standing under the water like he grew roots into his bathtub. Unmoving and statuesque as he let the drops roll down on his naked back and rinse off all the blood from his body. The wound on his chest was already healing, slowly, but it wasn’t bleeding any more. The feeling of hot water touching his torn skin was making him wince and grit his teeth at the same time, but the pain was not even close to that gut-wrenching feeling what was sitting patiently in his stomach.

Yennefer lied to him. She broke the main rule of the Continent’s and let a human, an outsider to walk away without erasing his memories. If any of their bosses find out that she lied about a witness and faked official reports, she could lose everything she ever worked for. Jaskier would be dragged back to the base and have his memories erased immediately and because he was foolish enough to come here, Geralt was now part of it as well.

Fucking Yennefer.

She knew it that Geralt will play along with this nightmare of a situation because he won’t risk putting Yen in danger even if it meant that he has to keep Jaskier as a secret. The only problem of course was the man himself. Jaskier, because he still had his memories will not leave him alone. It felt hauntingly familiar. The way  _ his _ bard just attached himself after their less than a minute conversation in that tavern in Posada and Geralt couldn’t get rid of him after that. Not like he truly wanted to scare him away after some time. He got used to the bard’s constant babble and presence but damn, he tried hard in the first few weeks to leave the poet behind. He sneaked away from their camps many times only to hear Jaskier run after him and shout his name in the forest repeatedly until Geralt was sure he woke up every single creature around them and the witcher had to stop and wait for the bard to assure he wasn’t killed by a monster he happened to disturb with his screeching. He tried to leave the bard behind in any given tavern they happened to sleep at, but Jaskier somehow finds him along the way a couple of hours or days later. Geralt gave up months later and decided it was useless to waste his energy to run away from the bard if he can just easily scare him away. It didn’t work either. The memory made Geralt smile as he started to scrub his chunky hair and the water immediately turned into a brownish river under his feet. He felt lighter after his hair was clean and smooth on his back.

All of his toiletries were unscented, thanks to Yennefer, who knew how much Geralt hated when he has a scent following him and could throw off his senses at any time. Yennefer said that was the reason why Geralt was so obsessed with Jaskier’s lavender smell because it wasn’t on his skin to distraught him, but always close enough to him to calm him down. He never told the mage that she was right, and no matter how many times he inhaled the bard’s scent it always made his heart flutter and ease his muscles. Geralt shook his head, causing water droplets to fly in every direction. He should be enraged. Yennefer lied to him and did everything the witcher asked her not to. After all these years she still thought she knows what is the best for Geralt and didn’t give a toss about the mutant’s needs or wishes. He should be furious right now but his brain and body were too exhausted to waste that tiny bit of energy he had on being angry. He was running on nothing. He couldn’t recall the last time he ate or slept and he still felt dazed after his momentary blackout and the steam and heat weren’t helping either. He had to lean against the wall with his forehead and let the water hit his back.

He didn’t know how long he was standing under the shower when the loud ringing of his doorbell torn him out of his pondering. He reached to turn off the water and pulled the curtain away to step out of the bathtub with a frown on his face. He never heard his doorbell ring before and he lived in this house the past five years. He wasn’t even sure until this point it worked, but as soon as Geralt stepped out of the tub he could hear movements coming from his living room.

“Fuck.” He grunted as he heard Jaskier’s muffled voice coming through the door and Geralt yanked a black towel off the hook on the wall and wrapped it around his waist tightly, securing it around his body before he pulled the door open so fast it nearly broke the hinges. From the bathroom which was just at the end of the hallway, he could see across his open kitchen area and into the living room where the entrance was and Geralt felt all the blood he had left in his body rush into his head. Jaskier just closed the front door as he turned around with five large, flat boxes in his arms. He had a satisfied, easy smile on his face as the smell of melted cheese quickly filled out Geralt’s entire house.

Maybe it was too much. Five pizzas for the two of them. Jaskier knows himself well enough to know he could easily destroy one whole pizza in one sitting. One and a half if he was wasted, and two when he was high as a kite. He grinned at that thought as he turned around to put down the boxes somewhere in the kitchen. Geralt seemed like someone who could easily eat a whole horse with the rider still in the saddle but the man was so insanely fit he maybe didn’t even eat something so common as a pizza. Jaskier frowned. Do immortals even eat? And what does an immortal witcher eats? Jaskier felt stupid as he stood there in the living room glaring at the cardboard boxes in his arms.

“Who doesn’t like pizza?” He shrugged and moved towards the kitchen only to withdraw a second later when he locked eyes with a bright yellow glare from all across the hallway. “S-shit.” He gasped when he saw Geralt stand just right there and gods help him, Jaskier’s knees nearly buckled when his brain caught up with his vision. Even from this distance, the brunet could see what he already suspected. Geralt was an absolute  _ unit _ . He was just bloody perfect. The way his broad shoulders tensed when they locked eyes and he had his wet shiny silver hair plastered all over his neck and the side of his face. His strong neck and sharp collarbones were deliciously moist from the sower and his whole pale skin had a pinkish colour from the heat. The gruesome wound across his sculpted chest was not taking anything away from his beauty but instead just shoveled a great amount of sex appeal and dangerous vibe on him. Jaskier didn’t even realise he licked his lips or the way his eyes were shamelessly roaming over that skin, but the frown on Geralt’s face told him that the witcher did see it, and was not happy about it. And that was the understatement of the year. Geralt was boiling. Jaskier’s sweet smell was now overpowering the scent of the food and punched Geralt in the guts mercilessly. The way those cornflower-blue eyes widened and Jaskier’s pupils blown up, was pure torture.

“You’re still here.” He said gruffly and it seemed to snap the other out of his thoughts as Jaskier rapidly averted his eyes back to Geralt’s face. It was a pretty face, even with the constant frown.

“Yes. I am.” He nodded and Geralt pursed his lips together before he opened his mouth to say something but the brunet was faster. “I know you told me to leave, and I kind of invited myself inside but I... uh, do you like pizza?” He smiled weakly and it was hesitant as he lifted the boxes a little bit higher and Geralt was now grinding his teeth together as his jaw flexed and Jaskier’s eyes were sharp enough to follow that tiny jump of Geralt’s muscles and oh boy. He could feel his cheeks flaming up.

“I ordered five with different toppings so we can switch and share.” He mumbled as he decided it was enough of their awkward stare-contest and walked into the kitchen, flicking the lights on with his elbow as he placed the boxes on the table. Now he was standing closer to Geralt and could feel the heat and steam coming out of the bathroom and it made his throat dry out in mere seconds. Some people may call him thirsty, but he chased away that thought quickly.

“I just wanted to properly thank you for saving my life and what’s better than teaspoons of oil and fatty cheese right?” He grinned at the man who still seemed ready to launch himself at Jaskier and rip his throat out with his teeth. It terrified him less than it should have and Jaskier was very disappointed in himself. Geralt glared as the human squirmed under his gaze and could see how the anxiety was playing cruelly with the brunet’s nerves. Geralt sighed slowly and Jaskier seemed to become even tenser as the witcher turned off the lights in the bathroom and walked towards his bedroom, which was just right next to him, and without a word he left Jaskier to stand there alone and closed his bedroom’s door behind himself. Jaskier was baffled by this man.

“Geralt? D-did you go to put some clothes on or are you going to sleep?” He called after him feeling utterly out of place as he could hear some footsteps and light racket coming from the bedroom. “Geralt? Is this your way to tell me to piss off or are you...” Jaskier couldn’t finish his question because the door swung open again and it was Geralt standing there in black sweats and a white t-shirt. His hair already left grey marks on the damp material and the mutant looked rather cozy and it put a small smile on Jaskier’s face.

Geralt was an idiot. It already hurt so badly to even think about Jaskier and now he was here, glaring at that dumb, adorable smile on the brunet’s plump lips and he could feel his stomach twist. He was ready to torture himself a little bit more and he was sure he already lost his mind when he decided to sit down in his kitchen and pull the top box off of the pile and drag it closer to himself. Jaskier was shocked to see that Geralt actually joined him and his amber eyes hungrily fixate on the food in front of him.

“Are you going to stand there and watch me eat?” Geralt asked roughly as he opened the box and looked up to Jaskier who was still standing next to the table like an old-fashioned housewife waiting for her husband’s approval to join for dinner.

“N-no. Sorry. I’m miles away.” He shook his head and quickly took the other seat while Geralt grabbed a slice of pizza and practically inhaled it. Jaskier stared with his mouth slightly open as the witcher swallowed the whole slice in two bites and could feel a small laugh escape from his lips. “Don’t forget to breathe yeah?” Jaskier teased and Geralt just bared his sharp canines at him and snatched another slice from the box while the brunet chuckled softly at his empty threat. Gods Geralt was famished. The warm food felt so good in his belly he nearly moaned after the first bite but his mouth was too full to let out any noise. Jaskier started to eat as well and seemed to be unable to keep his eyes off of him while Geralt demolished slice after slice.

“So I guess witchers are not so different from humans, right? I mean, you bleed like us, you eat like us. What else?” Jaskier tried one of his specialities, small talk, but when Geralt just glared at him with his mouth full, the brunet’s charming smile crumbled a bit. “I mean, you obviously look different than I thought you will after reading those ballads about you.” Jaskier said and the witcher stopped for a second, halfway into a bite, and raised a silver eyebrow at the younger man. “Y-you must know what I mean.” Jaskier mumbled but Geralt put down the slice that he had in his hands and leaned back in the chair.

“Enlighten me.” He shrugged and Jaskier felt like someone who has been caught in the crossfire. The fact that Geralt could be as sassy as they come made him hot under his collar and Jaskier was so ready for this challenge.

“Well first of all you look nothing like a wolf.” He grinned and Geralt crossed his arms over his chest as he studied Jaskier with a scowl. “More like a kitten.” He said and his smirk was malicious as the witcher’s eyes widened and Jaskier couldn’t help the laugh what bubbled out of him. “A feral one of course, but...” He didn’t stop with his cackling when the mutant snarled at him and his amber eyes flashed dangerously at the brunet.

“I’m kidding. Just kidding. You are very scary, alright?” Jaskier giggled and Geralt rolled his eyes in return and stuffed his mouth with some more pizza. Jaskier’s laugh was ringing loud in his ears and his heart was beating erratically as the brunet kept smiling and teasing him. It was more than having a déjà vu. The way those cornflower-blue eyes followed every movement of his body, every flinch on his face waiting for a reaction, provoking him to be part of the conversation. It was just like hundreds of years ago when he shared a meal with  _ his _ bard in a tavern and Jaskier annoyed Geralt like it was his mission. He missed this. Every single part of his soul was yearning for this and that gaping hollowness inside his chest started to fill up slowly.

“You are awfully comfortable around me. If I wanted to, I could rip you in half with my bare hands, kid.” He said with a wicked smirk on lips when Jaskier didn’t stop laughing and as soon as those words left Geralt’s lips the brunet’s eyes enlarged and his mouth fell open. Geralt smirk turned into a toothy grin when he heard the missed beat in Jaskier’s heart. The brunet blinked at Geralt for a moment before placed his elbow on the table and dropped his chin into his palm with a smile.

“Kinky. That was a promise, right?” He threw back the ball and Geralt was too stunned to catch it. He would have known that Jaskier mixed with modern society and slang was something too powerful and here he was, with his own joke backfired into his face.

“Hm.” He grunted and had a proud smirk on his lips which made Jaskier snort.

“Well, Witcher, how do you kill your free time when you are not hunting for monsters?” The younger man asked, guiding the conversation because he was afraid if it’s up to Geralt, they would just sit there noiselessly glaring at each other. And he wanted to know everything he could about the mutant even if he had to force it out of his surprisingly soft looking lips, syllable after syllable. “Do you have a hobby?” Asked Jaskier with an innocent smile. “Other witcher friends you hang out with?” Geralt frown was taking over his face while he pursed his lips together. “A girlfriend maybe?” Jaskier shrugged and glanced up at the other for a second to see Geralt glare at him.

“No.”

“No to which one?” Jaskier asked with his head cocked to one said but Geralt just huffed and stuffed his mouth full. “Okay, keep your secrets then.” The brunet just chuckled and Geralt watched as he finished a slice of pizza. Jaskier had a tiny splash of tomato sauce in the left corner of his mouth, and it affected Geralt more than it should have. His eyes were fixated on Jaskier’s lips and when the other caught him staring he could smell the lavender scent mix with something sugary and warm. Geralt looked back down at his now empty pizza box. This was not good. None of this should have happened.

He was having dinner with Jaskier like it wasn’t agonizingly painful to be near him. He should’ve called Yen and force her to come over and finish the memory-erasing spell on the brunet but no, he instead chose to let him joke around and tease him like it wasn’t making it any harder for Geralt to remember; it wasn’t real. He can’t let himself enjoy the moment because he knows it too well how will it be when it’s gone.

“Geralt?” The witcher looked up at the brunet who was watching him with worry clouding his face. “Are you alright? You zoomed out there a little bit.” Jaskier smiled at him and Geralt just nodded. “Alright, but if you feel dizzy or tired feel free to tell me to fuck off.” Jaskier joked and the witcher now looked at him with an unimpressed grimace.

“I think I already told you that before.” He said and Jaskier’s lips curved into a small o shape before his cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. It was a good look on him.

“Well. Yes. You did. But it was before the food. Now if you tell me to leave I will.” He said and Geralt raised a challenging eyebrow almost saying ‘ _ Really?’  _ and Jaskier bit onto his lower lip. “But you are not going to send me away yet am I right?” He flashed a charming smile and Geralt's stomach was now jumping uncomfortable at the sight.

“Pass me another box and you can stay until I finish it.” Geralt mumbled and the brunet just blinked at him for a second before he snickered and gave the witcher the next pizza on the top of the pile.

“Fair enough.”

Jaskier was walking on cloud nine. Geralt seemed to slowly relax around him a bit and his occasional grunts and hums turned into words and sometimes even sentences as well, while the brunet jabbered about everything and nothing. Geralt’s dry humour was just simply hilarious and weirdly adorable even though he was a witcher and his livelihood was killing monsters. Geralt was a mixture of frightening strength and exotic beauty and Jaskier was gobsmacked. The way the witcher just sat there and glared at him, with his damp hair and stunningly handsome face, Jaskier felt like an idiot. He was good at flirting. He was proud of being someone who could flirt his way out of getting a speeding ticket and even land a date with the police officer who stopped him. He was charming, and Geralt was the first man he ever met who was clearly immune to Jaskier’s charisma. Every time when he teased the silver-haired grump, Geralt just brushed it off with a frown, and Jaskier should be really offended by that. He knew that if anyone else would ignore his sly smirks and meaningful looks he gave to them, like how Geralt did, Jaskier would be fuming.

But Geralt was different. It was fun to play with the witcher even if he gave Jaskier the cold shoulder most of the time because when he got the other man to smile, the brunet’s hard was beating out of control and his skin started to prickle all over his body. Geralt was dazzling as he was, with his wavy, white hair and inhuman golden eyes, but when he grinned widely Jaskier’s lungs seemed to shut down, because the man was just that magnificent. His way to sharp teeth should put him off, they looked like Geralt could easily chew the meat off of Jaskier’s bones, but Jaskier was no coward by any means. Those pointy canines gave him many uncomfortable seconds while he was utterly ashamed by his own thoughts, but gods help him, he wanted to know how would it be to feel the stinging from those razor-sharp edges when they sunk into his shoulder. He never thought he would develop a freaky obsession with Geralt’s teeth but here he was.

Jaskier knew that he was a social butterfly. He could easily fall in love multiple times in one night and forget about them the next morning when he woke up, but Geralt was different. Since the witcher walked out on him and Jaskier was enjoying Yennefer’s hospitality, no matter how shocked and confused and sad he was, his mind always wandered back to Geralt.

The first two days he spent with Yennefer was a blurry mess. He remembered staying in bed and mourning. He still felt like Essi was just a phone call away and after the dial tones ended, the blonde girl’s jolly voice would call out his name. Jaskier was terrified. He has never been so alone in his life, he always had Essi since the orphanage where they grew up together and now it was just him. Him in a world which changed around him in mere second. No, not changed. Monsters were always there he was just blindfolded. Yennefer brought him food and glared at him until he finished it and then let Jaskier curl up under the blanket again and cry. The mage never let him be alone for too long, but she was considerate enough to let Jaskier grieve alone when he needed it.

The morning when Jaskier first left Yennefer’s guest bedroom and took a shower was surprising them both. The mage was sipping on a cup of coffee when Jaskier stumbled into the kitchen.

_ “Good morning Handsome.” Yennefer’s smile was subtle but Jaskier could see the way how the woman’s whole posture changed and loosened up as he walked over to the kitchen table. “Coffee?” She offered and the brunet just nodded. “You know I can feel that you want to ask something.” She said as she turned around to grab a mug for Jaskier. _

_ “What will happen to me now?” Jaskier asked as Yennefer placed the cup in front of him and he quietly thanked the drink.  _

_ “Well it depends, what would you like to do?” The mage pulled out a bottle of milk from the fridge and Jaskier just smiled as he poured some of it into his coffee.  _

_ “What are my options?” He looked up at the woman who’s smile widened as she leaned against the kitchen counter with her lower back.  _

_ “I can easily erase your memories about the attack if you want that.” She offered and for a second Jaskier was tempted to slam his palms on the table and say yes but then... _

_ “That would mean I would forget about all of this? About monsters and a-about you too?” He asked and licked his top lip when Yennefer cocked her head slightly to the left and studied Jaskier’s face with a smirk. _

_ “Yes. You wouldn’t remember any of it. Not even Geralt.” She said and sipped on her coffee as Jaskier could feel his cheeks heat up. It was frightening how much of an open book he was for the mage.  _

_ “W-well I guess that’s not an option then.” He shrugged and the mage just hummed. “How are you going to explain to my boss what happened? I mean not you but... whoever you work for. All those bodies and... and Essi’s death and...” Jaskier swallowed and he felt vulnerable under Yennefer’s purple eyes.  _

_ “His memories got replaced. He thinks there was a break-in and your friend quit because she felt unsafe.” Yennefer said and Jaskier guts twisted at that. _

_ “What about me?” _

_ “It’s up to you again. You can go back there to work or just quit.” Jaskier sat there quietly for a second before he shook his head.  _

_ “I don’t think I have the stomach to ever go back there.”  _

_ “Understandable.” She murmured and for a few minutes, neither of them talked. Jaskier could still feel the mage’s eyes on his face as he stared into his mug and for the first time in days, his brain was actually blank. Like his mind just ran out of battery and there was nothing just static noise.  _

__

The memory seemed so old like it was years back yet, it only happened two days ago. Jaskier looked up from his pizza to see Geralt watch him with an unreadable face.

“Uh, I think I should go home.” He said with a frail smile. He had lost his appetite. Geralt knit his eyebrows together like he wanted to ask something from Jaskier but instead just nodded. The witcher quickly stood up and reached to put all the leftover slices in one box so Jaskier can take it home, but the brunet just chuckled at that. “It’s okay, I'm stuffed, you can have them Geralt.” He said with a grin and the mutant seemed unsure for a second like he wanted to argue about the issue.

“How much was it?” Geralt’s voice was harsh even if he tried to sound casual and he turned away to grab his wallet which was still in his jacket's pocket in the bathroom.

“Don’t worry about it.” Jaskier called after him with a genuine smile on his face and as the witcher turned back to face him again and Geralt looked almost shy. Those yellow eyes were fixated on the empty pizza boxes on the table and he was pouting. It made Jaskier’s chest tighten.

“You can pay for the next one?” He offered boldly and now Geralt’s gaze was back on his face again. The man looked hesitant like he wasn’t sure what was the right answer to that question, or more like he didn’t like the answer. Jaskier was waiting patiently while Geralt was debating with his hands clenched into a fist by his sides. Then he gave a shaky nod and Jaskier wanted to jump and punch in the air like a child. “Splendid.” He smiled and Geralt looked like he already regretted his choice.

“No, take backs now, Witcher.” Jaskier said and fetched his mobile from his back pocket and give it to Geralt who just stared at the offered phone like it was something he never has seen in his life before. “You need to give me your number Big Guy because as much as I adore this neighbourhood I can’t come here every time I want to see you and hope that you will be home.” He said with a raised eyebrow and Geralt just grunted a small, deep noise back in his throat and snatched Jaskier’s mobile out from his fingers. The brunet couldn’t help the barmy look on his face while Geralt saved his number and tossed the phone back to Jaskier. He looked down on his screen to see digits under Geralt’s name and it gave him an unhealthy amount of joy to have this man’s number and have the power to text him or even call him whenever he wanted. He knew it right away that he will abuse this privilege and probably get blocked after a day or two.

“Can I take a photo of you to save it with your number?” He looked up with a grin but Geralt bared his teeth at him with a snarl and Jaskier stumbled backward a couple of steps with a laugh. “Alright. Okay. No pictures. I get it. Don’t bite my head off.” He babbled and Geralt rolled his yellow eyes at him. “Well, I Uhm, thanks for having me and I will text you later, yeah?” He said and awkwardly peeked to the front door then back to Geralt.

“Hm.” The man just hummed and Jaskier snickered.

“You always say the nicest things Geralt.” He placed his palm over his heart as he winked at the man and finally walked over to the main entrance. Geralt was not following him. The witcher was just glaring at him from the kitchen as the brunet turned around when he opened the door. “You really should have some decoration in your house you know. It looks awfully bland and depressing. Like a hospital room. You should buy some plants or...”

“Jaskier!” Geralt barked and the brunet shivered at that but his smirk was still on his face.

“Touchy. Alright. I leave you here in your minimalistic home if you can call this minimalistic. Whatever. See you later Geralt and don’t ignore my text messages. You look like someone who would leave anyone on read for days. I am really persistent and...” Jaskier wandered off again but as soon as the man’s amber eyes flashed at him dangerously he felt goosebumps ran over his skin above his spine and he stopped.

“Okay, I’m leaving you Grouch. Don’t miss me too much yeah?” He looked over his shoulder as he stepped out of the house and couldn’t help the loud bubbling laugh that escaped his mouth when Geralt’s face turned into a malicious grimace and was ready to jump at Jaskier and bite his head off. “Good night!” He sang as he closed the door behind himself and could hear the man mutter a broken  _ fuck  _ inside the house. Jaskier was grinning all the way back to his flat.

Geralt was standing in his kitchen long after Jaskier left and he was staring at the front door like it was to blame for this mess. He gave his phone number to him. What the fuck was he thinking? Geralt groaned and walked over to the entrance to lock it before he marched to his windows and cracked them open to let Jaskier’s sweet smell out of the house. He looked good today. He had some pale, greyish circles under his bright eyes like he had some trouble with sleeping, probably he was tormented by nightmares, but he looked better than before. Geralt went to the bathroom to put a load of dirty clothes in the washing machine before the blood gets so deep into the fabrics it will be impossible to remove it. He took his phone out of his jacket before he threw that too into the machine and filled it up with way too much unscented washing liquid. The low rattling from the machine was somewhat relaxing and when Geralt went to the sink to brush his teeth and get ready for bed his phone chirped and a mail icon flashed on the screen. The witcher opened the message and it was a photo of a partially demolished, empty building without windows and doors somewhere in the city center. The picture was clearly taken from a bus and it was slightly blurry.

** I see that your interior designer was busy – Jaskier  **

Geralt frowned and before he could answer anything else there was another message coming up. It was a photo again. A selfie, that’s what Yen said it’s called. It was Jaskier from a high angle as he sat on the bus leaning his head against the window and stared outside, not looking into the camera with a sad face.

** This will be me tomorrow morning hungry, while I think about the pizza I left at yours. **

Geralt couldn’t help but snort as he studied Jaskier’s pout on the photo. He saved the brunet’s number as he sat down on the edge of the bathtub.

** R U already sleeping or just ignoring me?  **

Came another text and now Geralt was officially smiling. Not widely or anything. But the corners of his lips curled up as his phone beeped again.

** This won’t work between us if you are one of those people who go to bed early and start the morning at 4 am with running 5 miles. Geralt? Are you a morning person?  **

Geralt chuckled and his fingers moved over his screen smoothly as he typed back.

** 10 miles. Goodnight Jaskier. **

It said and he placed his phone next to the sink and reached for his toothbrush just before his phone went off again.

** My disappointment is immeasurable.  **

Geralt shook his head as he read it. He finished in the bathroom a few minutes later and walked into his bedroom. His bed never looked more inviting than now and as he climbed under the blanket and finally dropped his head on the pillow, he could feel the aching in every single muscle of his body. He inhaled slowly just when his mobile beeped again. Geralt turned his head and reached over to his nightstand to read the message.

** Goodnight Geralt. Enjoy your normal sleeping schedule, you weirdo.  **

Geralt fell asleep with a smile on his face for the first time in centuries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stan annoying Jaskier who uses photos instead of emojis!
> 
> I hope you guys liked this chapter!
> 
> From now on we will have more fluff and less angst BUT it doesn't mean it will be easy for this two muppets!
> 
> If you wanna chat come and find me on twitter.  
> @doberainbow


	6. Fish and Chips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dating is difficult when your partner reminds you of your dead sweetheart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there guys, gals and non-binary pals, 
> 
> I hope everyone is coping with this quarantine better than I do, but hey, 
> 
> *voguing*  
> Let's have a break down, break-break-break break down  
> *cries and while voguing*

When Yennefer stepped through the portal into Geralt’s house he was expecting the witcher to start throwing things at her. Not like he had many things lay around, but she wouldn’t be surprised to meet face to face with the kitchen table as she appeared. But the house was quiet. The mage closed the bright gate behind her and walked through the house towards the bedroom. She could feel Geralt’s present in there and as she slowly opened the door Yennefer almost cooed at the sight. Everyone would think Geralt slept like a statue buried in a coffin. All rigid and coordinated even in his sleep. Yen was one of those few people to know how Geralt truly slept. Like a starfish. His limbs were thrown in every direction, coming in and out of the blanket as the material was wrapped around him. One of his arms was half hanging off the edge of the bed and his hair… His hair was a mess like every time when he forgot to tie it together and went to bed with his slightly wet locks. Yennefer snorted as she watched Geralt sleep so peacefully. It made his heart swell. He knew that Geralt was tormented with nightmares each time he closed his eyes but as the mage listened closely, she could hear Geralt’s slow heartbeat. She smiled while she grabbed her phone and snapped a few photos of the witcher. She quickly sent them to Jaskier without a message and dropped her mobile back into her coat’s pocket. Geralt stirred in his sleep, his body was aware of how Yennefer's gaze was fixed on his face as the woman walked closer and sat down on the mattress. Yen slowly lifted her hand to move the tangled hairs out of Geralt’s face but as soon as she was close enough strong fingers wrapped around her wrist and lilac eyes met with a vigilant golden pair.

“Morning Sunshine.” Yen grinned as the vice-like grip tightened around her arm.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Geralt hissed. His voice was heavy with sleep and it seemed to be even lower and gruff. Yennefer always liked the witcher's voice in the morning when they used to wake up together.

“I wanted to ask you out for a coffee of course.” She smiled at him innocently and Geralt now had a furious frown on his face as he let the fragile arm go and sit up quickly.

“Do you want to explain as well why you lied about Jaskier?”

“Well if I have to.” Yennefer rolled her as stood up and turned around to go and wait in the kitchen but Geralt was quickly on his feet behind her.

“You had no right to do this Yennefer.” The mutant nearly shouted and the mage just groaned as she faced with the man and crossed her arms over her chest.

“You’re right. I lied to you, to the Continent, and went against your wish. Again. That’s all you wanted to hear? Great. Get dressed or they will run out of croissants.” She rolled her eyes and wanted to leave again but Geralt was front of her in a second and the next thing she felt was her back colliding with the door as the mutant pushed her against the wood. The air was punched out of her lungs as soon as the man pushed her and she could feel Geralt’s fast breathing on her cheeks. “You’re acting like a rabid animal Ge…”

“Shut the fuck up Yen.” The man growled at her and the mage could feel his whole body tremble. “Just for once. Shut up and listen. If anyone else, anyone would have done the same what you did the last couple of days they would be dead right now.”

“Oh, gods Geralt just…”

“Shut up!” Geralt roared and the mage knit her eyebrows together as she stared at the witcher. “We can lose everything we have because of your stupidity. You lied to me for days while you were hiding him in your house. You faked the reports about him. And you did all of this for what? To have him for a few years before he dies again? He is going to die Yen. He can’t…”

“I know.” The mage interrupted him with a whisper. “I know he will, but when he died I not only lost Jaskier but I lost you as well.” Geralt could hear how wildly Yen’s heart was beating inside her body. “I want you to have him back even if for a few decades. I want to see you smile and laugh again Geralt. You…”

“And after what? You hope when he dies for the second time it will be easier than before?” Geralt asked. His voice was cold and Yennefer couldn’t answer that question. “You can’t play with me like this Yen.”

“We don’t know how far science will go Geralt. Maybe in a few years, I will find a spell or a potion that won’t kill him but make him immortal as well. You don’t… you don’t know.” She tried to reason with the man but he just stepped away while shaking his head.

“That was your plan? To gamble?”

“No! I planned to make you understand that being with Jaskier for a few decades was better than trying to forget about him.” Yennefer was now shouting. Her lilac eyes were dark and her posture was tense. “Look at yourself! You slept peacefully for the first time in gods knows how many years only because you spent a few hours with him yesterday.”

“Oh, because that fucking justifies your actions Yen?” Geralt howled back and the mage pursed her lips together.

“No. But for once in your life be honest with me and tell me if last night wasn’t the best night of your life since he died.” She snapped and Geralt’s eyes widened. “I fucked it up okay? I shouldn’t have lied to you. I’m sorry Geralt. But I am not sorry for bringing him back. I’m not sorry about risking my job for you and I am not sorry for leading Jaskier to you. You have your second chance now. Take it. Be with him. Let him make you happy. Let him love you and I swear I will do everything I can to protect him. I swear.”

Geralt didn’t know how long they were standing there speechless. Both of them were heaving as they stared at each other. It was Yennefer who moved first and closed the distance between them. Geralt closed his eyes when the mage pulled him into a hug. Her long fingers were digging into his back gently as she just stood there and hold him.

“You have to find a way. I can’t lose him again.” Geralt mumbled into the mage's thick hair and the woman just nodded.

“I will. I swear I will.” She whispered and placed a kiss onto Geralt’s temple.

Half an hour later Geralt was sitting in an independent café while Yennefer was chatting with the barista by the till and flirted with the poor guy who spilled milk all over the counter. Geralt turned to look out of the window when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

** Ohmyfuckinggods u have bed hair?! **

It was a text from Jaskier and the witcher just frowned as he read the message again and again before he started typing.

** I don’t know what are you talking about. **

He said and he could see the small bubble pop up as the brunet was writing his answer. The new message came but it was just a photo of him sleeping in his bed this morning. He looked chaotic like he was tossing and turning all night.

“Fuck.” He grunted and glared at Yennefer’s back for a second.

** Don’t be shy u look adorable. **

Came the next message and Geralt winced at that not even realizing when Yennefer sat down across their table and stared at him with a fond smile.

“Did he like the photos?” The mage asked while stirring her coffee, messing up the flowery pattern on the top with the spoon.

“I hate you.” He murmured and Yen just grinned at him. The young barista walked over to their table and placed Geralt’s black coffee in front of him.

“W-would you like some milk, Sir?” He asked while eyeing Yennefer not even paying attention to Geralt.

“No.” He grunted and the boy just nodded and stumbled away when the mage winked at him with a smirk.

“It was such a long time since I slept with a human. Maybe they learned some new tricks in bed. I should catch up.” Yennefer sighed with a sly smile and Geralt just rolled his amber eyes at that. The woman had no shame. “Speaking of shagging. Geralt, when was the last time you…”

“Fuck off.” Hissed the witcher not even letting the mage finish her question and a second later Yen’s grin took over her whole face. He should tell her she looked rather malicious when she did that.

“That long huh? It must be hard to be around Jaskier then. Literally.” She chuckled and for a second Geralt was considering it to stab himself in the ear with the spoon so he doesn’t have to listen to this.

“Are you done?” He asked with a growl and Yennefer just sipped from her cup.

“For now yes.” She smiled while placed back the mug on the saucer and popped her elbow on the table to place her chin into her palm. “When are you going to see him again?” She asked and Geralt just frowned at her before looking out of the window. “You’re hopeless. Ask him what he is doing right now. You don’t have a new assignment yet, you should be with him while you have some free time.” She jabbered and Geralt pursed his lips tightly together. “Text him or I will.” Murmured the mage and the witcher snapped his head back to glare at her. Yennefer didn’t care about his furious yellow eyes or the way his jaw flexed and after a minute of silence, the woman reached for her pocket with a sigh.

“Fine.” Geralt finally bit it out and Yen’s smile was borderline maniacal right now.

** What are you doing? **

Said the message and Geralt only realized how terrible he is at this after he pressed the  _ send _ button.

** You mean today or like right now? **

Geralt read it and in his head, he could hear Jaskier’s excited voice loud enough to make his heart flutter. He chose to ignore it how Yennefer laughed at him.

** I’m looking for a new job. I don’t think I can go back there after what happened. **

Shit. Geralt had no idea what he should reply to that and for a minute he just glared at his phone before Jaskier started typing again. Well, thank fuck for that.

** Why? Do u miss me? **

Geralt snorted because he knows it damn well how the other was grinning right now and probably biting on his bottom lip like each time when he teased Geralt and was waiting for him to either throw back the ball or end the game once and for all and tell him to piss off.

“You have never smiled at me like that you know.” Yen’s voice dragged him out of his thoughts and when he looked at the woman he expected to see her wear a frown or an annoyed grimace but it was neither. Yennefer was grinning from ear to ear. “It’s a good look on you.” She said and Geralt was aghast. “Close your mouth Geralt and answer him.” The mage chuckled and Geralt just did that.

** We could have lunch.  **

Together, he wanted to say, but he hoped Jaskier will understand that this is painfully difficult for him and he needs Jaskier to lead the conversation because Geralt was useless.

** I take that as a yes ;) **

Geralt was frowning at his phone while he waited for Jaskier’s new message.

** Are you asking me out, Detective? **

Geralt breath hitched in his throat.

“Say yes before you freak out even more.” Groaned Yennefer from her seat while she was scrolling down on her phone. Of course, she knew what Geralt was hesitating about. She could read him easily even without actually getting inside his head.

** Yes **

As soon as he sent the message he could feel fear just grab his spine like a huge icy hand and shake him to his core.

“For Melitele’s tits, calm down! He is crazy about you. You’re giving me anxiety.” Yennefer said and kicked him in the shin under the table. Geralt glared at the woman who didn’t even look up from her phone as he felt his mobile buzz in his palm.

** Lunch it is. Where do you want to meet? **

Geralt bit into his bottom lip before he could grin.

“Oh gods, I take back everything. You’re so happy it’s gross.” Yennefer groaned and frowned at him. Now Geralt was truly smirking and the woman just shook her head. “So what’s the plan with the songbird? Where are you guys going?” Yen asked and put down her phone, staring at the witcher who just blinked at her like the moron he was. “You’re hopeless you know that?” She said with a grin and took a sip from her coffee. “We need to do something with that hair of yours before you anywhere. You look like you stick your finger in a socket.” Geralt already knew he is going to deeply regret this.

The witcher couldn’t recall when was the last time he was this nervous. It was new. He used to be always calm around Jaskier. The bard always had a calming presence, even if Geralt sometimes wanted to just place his palms over those pink lips and make him shut up. He was never worried about what will Jaskier think about him, or will he enjoy his company. Their relationship was so natural. It used to be. Now Geralt was freaking out. As ancient as he was, he never dated before. It wasn’t something people did when he was young… younger. If you liked someone you spent the night together, maybe even got married and had kids, but dating wasn’t something he was familiar with. Yennefer kept telling him about rules, dos and don’ts and Geralt’s head were spinning. He just wanted to be with Jaskier. They could sit around a campfire in the middle of a dark forest or go to a restaurant. It didn’t matter. Jaskier could carry the whole conversation on his shoulders and Geralt would just sit there, watch him and grunt occasionally. That was all he needed, all they ever did, but Yen put this idea in his head that it wasn’t good enough in the year 2020.

_ “Jaskier is a catch, you need to woo him before someone else does it.” _

_ “You can’t just not talk Geralt. You need to participate.” _

_ “Are you really going to wear that?” _

_ “You have to make him feel like he is the most beautiful person in this world.” _

_ “He is.” Geralt mumbled quietly and Yennefer just grinned at that. _

Geralt was scared. Life centuries ago was so much easier. People were simple. Social life and entertaining someone were limited and even back then, Geralt was terrible at it. He couldn’t do small talk. He didn’t know how to chat or look casual. He was trained to be an emotionless, punch first, and ask later machine. He was created to destroy not to protect. The same doubts he had hundreds of years ago were now crawling back to the surface.

He never admitted to  _ his _ bard how he truly felt towards him and what he really wanted them to become. Exactly because of these reasons. He wanted nothing more than just to be with Jaskier and make him feel beloved and safe. But Geralt was a butcher. A magically created monster and even though Jaskier always said that was just horseshit, Geralt knew it wasn’t. Jaskier only saw what he wanted to see. He ignored the fact that Geralt killed countless of people without thinking twice about it or feeling guilty. The poet only saw the best in him, and no matter how grateful Geralt was for that, it was nothing but ignoring the truth. You can only hunt beasts with a stronger beast.

Witchers were nothing more than domesticated monsters.

The drive to Jaskier’s flat was nerve-wracking. Geralt was so against the idea of letting Jaskier back into his life again a few days ago, he wanted to make a U-turn and drive home too many times. He had to keep telling himself it will be alright. He had to trust Yennefer to find a way, any way, to make Jaskier immortal or just expand his lifespan because decades were not enough. He needed more. Forty-fifty years passed by in a blink of an eye. But there was another problem.

Nothing guaranteed that Jaskier wants to spend his eternity with Geralt. He had nothing to offer. He was a broken, tired, emotionally scarred mutant in a world too busy and fast for him. Jaskier will no longer follow him for ballads and have Geralt as his muse. He can’t take him to his hunts and share the adventures with him. Geralt could only offer his personality and the idea of that it maybe he wasn’t enough for Jaskier, scared him to death. He wished he would be different. Someone who could open up and enjoy things. Someone who could promise a happy future to Jaskier and wasn’t such a wreck. Geralt’s misery and deep dive into self-pity were disturbed when his phone vibrated in his pocket.

** “I can feel you overthinking it. Get your shit together Geralt!” **

It was a message from Yennefer and the witcher just groaned as he finally pulled up at Jaskier’s building. He didn’t know what the rules are for this. Should he call him or send a text message? He had absolutely no idea what he was doing, but he knew one thing. He wanted to see Jaskier’s flat and deeply inhale his scent where everything smelled like the brunet. So Geralt climbed out of his car, locked the doors, and walked into the building. The stench of black mould was still heavy inside but Geralt was too nervous to care about such things and he swiftly jogged up the stairs. On Jaskier’s floor, he could already hear the brunet’s footsteps in his own flat. Jaskier was talking to himself. The mutant couldn’t quite catch what he was saying but he sounded like if he was trying to calm himself down. That put an awfully smug smirk on the witcher’s mug while he walked over to Jaskier’s door and knocked.

“Fuck. Alright. You got this.” Whispered the brunet from inside and Geralt was now grinning like a hyena when Jaskier unlocked the door and pulled it open.

Oh, he was truly hated and loved by the gods at the same time thought Jaskier as he opened his door and his eyes roamed over Geralt. The witcher was smiling, no, not smiling he was grinning with his sharp teeth on display and Jaskier was weak in the knees.

“Hey.” He smiled and he wrote a memo in his head to remind him to thank Yennefer whatever she did with Geralt’s hair because it was practically glowing. “You look great.” Jaskier grinned at the witcher’s adorably confused face was just too much to handle. “Come in. Would you like something to drink?” The brunet asked and stepped further into his flat to let Geralt walk in and close the door behind him. The mutant was right. Jaskier’s scent was weighty in the air. Every single breath he took made his head dizzy and he wanted to stay here forever.

“Geralt?” The blue-eyed man asked as he stepped in front of the witcher who seemed to have a seizure in any second. “Are you alright?” Geralt knew that he was acting like a freak but Jaskier just had that effect on him and he couldn’t handle it too smoothly. The brunet looked simply stunning. The teal dress shirt he had on was complimenting his impossibly bright eyes. His tight dark trousers were hugging every centimeter of his long legs and he had two completely different coloured socks on. Geralt was not alright.

“I’m fine.” The mutant grunted anyway and Jaskier just smiled and walked towards the bathroom where the lights were still on.

“I will be ready in a second.” He said over his shoulder and disappeared inside the bathroom, leaving the door slightly open.

Geralt has been in  _ his  _ bard’s chamber at the Oxenfurt Academy for a couple of times. It was a neatly organised chaos as the poet used to call it and this small flat had the same feeling. There were books, notes, and magazines scattered around on every single open surface. The kitchen was tidy but not like how it was in Geralt’s own house, this actually showed that someone lived here and probably knew how to cook. Geralt looked around and could see three different guitars standing against the walls and even a bright pink ukulele was thrown on the sofa. The one thing that really caught his amber eyes was the instrument laying on the bed with some sheet music papers around it. It was a lute. Geralt had to swallow as he walked closer to Jaskier’s bed to see it from closer. Of course, Jaskier would manage somehow to have a lute in the twenty-first century. Geralt hasn’t seen one of these for probably two hundred years. The instrument was simple but elegant. It wasn’t like what  _ his  _ bard got from Filavandrel. No, the elven lute was simply magnificent. He remembered how the young troubadour couldn’t shut up about it for days. Jaskier used to protect that lute like it was his child until one day when Geralt was a little bit too slow and a ghoul sneaked up on him from behind. Jaskier slammed and broke his most precious possession on the creature's head without thinking about it twice.

The memory made Geralt smile. The bard was telling everyone for days how he saved the great White Wolfs’ life with a single attack. Geralt also remembers how Jaskier cried when the witcher bought him another lute because the mutant felt guilty about the previous one. That was the first time when he let the poet hug him and he didn’t push him away but closed his arms around the songbird as well.

“Sorry about the mess I’m not coping with this whole situation as good as it seems.” Jaskier’s velvety voice brought him back from the memory and the young brunet walked over to Geralt.

“You play the lute?” The witcher asked and looked up to see Jaskier smile at him. His hair was different than before. It was still messy, in an I-just-rolled-out-of-the-bed way, but Geralt could see the effort put into it to look this fluffy and curly at the ends. Jaskier easily took his breath away.

“No, I’m one of those hipsters who carry something weird with them all the time so people will ask me about it.” Jaskier shrugged and Geralt’s face was probably darkened with disappointment because the brunet busted into a laugh. “Of course I can play it. Not as good as the guitar, it’s more difficult than I thought, but I can manage a few songs.” Jaskier grinned at him and Geralt clenched his fists to stop them from quivering. “I will play for you one day if you want to.” Jaskier spoke as he could just read the witcher's thoughts and Geralt nodded as a response, not trusting his own vocal cords. “So where are you taking me?” Jaskier asked with a smile and he walked to the door to put his shoes on.

“Yen told me there is this new fancy restaurant she tried in the centre and…” Geralt mumbled and his voice faded away when Jaskier stared at him so openly shocked it made the mutant swallow his words. “but if you…” He tried again and had to look somewhere else, anywhere else, because Jaskier’s eyes were too blue and his lips were partially open.

“No, it does sound lovely.” The brunet quickly said, yet Geralt sensed that there was a ‘but’ hidden somewhere in there. “Don’t look so worried I just meant that…” Jaskier said and he bit into his bottom lip while he looked around his flat for a moment and Geralt could feel the bitter, acidic smell of shame linger in the air. “you have seen my flat and you know I live in this rubbish neighbourhood.” Jaskier said and he grimaced as he looked up to Geralt. “You really don’t have to take me somewhere awfully posh. I’m more than happy to just grab something simple.” Jaskier explained and he must have seen the permanent frown on the mutant’s face getting more confused because the brunet winced and scratched the back of his neck. “Gods, I sound like such a cock. I just meant that we can go wherever you want to, but don’t feel obligated to…to…”

“I know a Fish and Chips shop close enough.” Geralt murmured and for a minute they just stared at each other without a word. Jaskier’s cheeks were flushed and the witcher was pursing his lips before the brunet chuckled and shook his head.

“That would be brilliant.” Jaskier’s grin was toothy and Geralt’s shoulders seemed to relax as well at that. “You don’t mind if we go there instead of the restaurant right?”

“It was Yen’s idea. I’m not… too fond of those places either. ” Geralt spoke in that deep and rough voice what made Jaskier’s heart flutter each time and to think about it how the witcher would put up with something he despised only to impress him, was making his chest ache. “I fucking hate rich people.” Geralt admitted with a snarl and Jaskier was now giggling as he walked over to the witcher and patted his left arm.

“Well, then you and the ten pounds I have on my bank account will be best pals then.” Jaskier winked at him and Geralt snorted as they walked out of the flat. It wasn’t too sunny outside. There was a thick layer of clouds keeping the sun rays away but Geralt had to put his sunglasses on no matter how the weather was.

“Is this light hurts your eyes?” Jaskier asked looking at him with his head tilted to one side and Geralt just frowned at him for a second.

“No.” He mumbled and the brunet’s confused face now was turning into a gentle smile.

“Then you shouldn’t hide your pretty eyes.” Jaskier grinned at the silver-haired man but as soon as Geralt pursed his lips together and looked away the brunet’s face fell. It was impossible to tell what was going on in the witcher’s head. Sometimes Jaskier thought that the man will just simply rip his head off from his neck and a second later he caught those amber eyes linger a little bit too long on his lips. Geralt was a huge mixed signal. It threw him off. He usually can see what others want from him and he can give them just that. But the witcher was too confusing. Jaskier liked a tough challenge when he knew he had a chance to win. With Geralt, he wasn’t so sure what was the man doing by his side.

The monster hunter mentioned that Jaskier reminds him of someone he lost and that thought was painful for many reasons. A huge part of his heart and the rational segment of his brain are telling Jaskier that he is nothing but a copy, a memory that Geralt wants to chase for a little longer and it did hurt him. Jaskier didn’t know who was this person the witcher saw in him, but sometimes when those golden eyes were staring at him Jaskier felt like Geralt wasn’t truly looking at him, but through him. It made him uneasy and poisoned his confidence.

Jaskier wasn’t only trying to get into Geralt’s trousers, no. The man of course was unfairly gorgeous but after their awkward pizza ‘date’, the brunet had to realise that he enjoyed the witcher’s company in a friendly way. So he decided to roll with it, no matter how painful it was sometimes.

If Geralt will allow him to be his friend only because Jaskier reminded him of someone from his past, Jaskier was okay with that. Jaskier knew that he will still tease him and flirt with the man, but there were no true intentions behind his words, he just wanted to see the witcher drop that stoic mask he always wore and react to the brunet’s jokes. Jaskier was shaken out of his thoughts when Geralt pushed his sunglasses into his hair and the brunet grinned at him.

“Much better.”

Jaskier was only once in public with Geralt and they were both running for their lives, chased by monsters. Now, on the other hand, they were sitting in a casual, family-owned fish and chips shop and it was bizarre. People from all age groups and gender were openly staring at Geralt who seemed to completely ignore how everyone’s eyes caressed and undressed him unabashedly. Jaskier frowned at an old lady who kept glancing over their table and Geralt caught him in the act.

“People are shameless,” Jaskier mumbled and it was now Geralt’s turn to scowl and look around the diner where all the customers quickly glared down on their own plates. The witcher was used to this. He walked on this land for centuries carrying the heavy weights of the human’s judgemental and disgusted looks. In this modern world, he was less of a freak, but he was still one nonetheless.

“We can go somewhere else.” Geralt offered and Jaskier had a single chip halfway hanging out of his mouth as he looked at the witcher. Their food was on these single-use paper plates and Geralt would rather sit on a dirty curb somewhere on the streets than here where even the old lady behind the till was glaring at him and making Jaskier uncomfortable.

“Yeah fuck this, let’s go,” Jaskier muttered, and the mutant bit back the smirk which tried to crawl upon his face.

They found a bench not too far away in a small quiet park. Geralt was sitting, facing forward with the still half-full plate on his lap. Jaskier was sitting sideways next to him and was throwing little pieces of chips on the ground for the pigeons around them.

“So there were real pirates?” The young man asked as their conversation somehow ended being a sort of weird quiz show called Myth or Real, in the past half an hour. Geralt didn’t mind it at all and Jaskier seemed to enjoy it evermore.

“Yes.” Geralt grunted and Jaskier smiled at him.

“Once I dressed up as a pirate in elementary school. It was some silly ball or something, I can’t really remember but Essi knew that what I was going to be and she showed up dressed as the Kraken.” Jaskier said with a chuckle and the mutant looked at him from the corner of his eyes. “I thought she will be a mermaid or a damsel in distress you know? Nah, she was the bloody Kraken. She had all the tentacles and was painted grey from head to toes.” Jaskier smile faltered a little bit and if Geralt would be a better and braver man, he would have pulled the brunet into a hug. But Geralt was neither of those, he was a fool. “We didn’t win, someone who dressed up as ketchup and brown sauce got the prize, but it still cracks me up.” Jaskier murmured under his breath as he threw another piece of fried potato to the birds.

“I’m sorry about her.” Geralt said hoarsely and the brunet’s round sky-blue eyes were looking at his face. “I should have saved her.” The witcher mumbled and Jaskier put his paper plate on the other side of the bench and he slid closer to the silver-haired man until his leg touched Geralt’s thigh.

“It wasn’t your fault Geralt,” Jaskier whispered and the witcher just grimaced at that and looked away. “Hey listen to me.” Jaskier reached for the witcher’s hands and as soon as his palms covered the sharp knuckles he was shocked to feel how warm Geralt’s skin was under his touch like his body was fighting with constant fever. “You saved my life that day. Essi… she was just… it wasn’t your fault. Don’t feel guilty because of what happened. Please.” He pleaded and after a minute the witcher just nodded. It was a tense and shaky nod, but for now, it was good enough for Jaskier. Geralt was looking down on their hands. Jaskier long, soft fingers wrapped around his scarred skin... It shouldn’t feel this good but it did. Geralt closed eyes for a moment to savour the feeling and when he opened his eye he saw  _ his  _ bard’s bloody lifeless fingers around his own.

“Fuck.” Geralt stood up like he was pulled up by some invisible force and Jaskier flinched away as the man moved. The brunet’s hand fell into his lap as he blinked up at the silver-haired man’s broad shoulders. Geralt's whole body was tensing up and he was shivering.

Well if there was a clear red signal this was it. Jaskier moved back on the bench and glanced at the trembling man. He never thought Geralt will react to his touch like this, and he would be lying if he would say it didn’t hurt, but Jaskier swallowed down his pride and to make the witcher snap out of it, whatever was it.

“What about leprechauns?” Jaskier asked carefully, trying hard to talk over that lump in his throat and Geralt slowly turned around with his trademark frown.

“They are not real.” He grumbled deeply and Jaskier just hummed at that.

“Shame. I would love to see you fight with a dozen of them at the same time.” He said with a grin and Geralt let out a puff of air through his nose. Jaskier counted that as a laugh.

Thanks to his underappreciated talent to avoid certain topics in a conversation Jaskier was able to keep the chattering between them playful and light-hearted. Geralt didn’t move away the next time when the brunet jokingly punched his shoulder and he even cracked a lopsided smile at that, so Jaskier remembered to keep their touching on this friendly level.

Of course, Geralt was an immortal witcher who was being hunted and hurt way too many times and Jaskier shouldn’t take it personally when the man pulled away from his touch. He kept saying ‘It will be all right’ like it was his silly mantra, but fuck it was difficult to believe it when Geralt looked so broken and lost all the time. Jaskier wanted nothing but to wrap him in a warm, fluffy blanket and cuddle him until the man stopped being this clenched fist with hair.

Geralt on the other hand was sweating bullets. Every single fucking time when he moved further away from the brunet of flinched, a rush of panic and hurt was oozing out of Jaskier. Geralt was royally screwing this up and he couldn’t force himself to stop. He couldn’t look at Jaskier without seeing  _ his  _ bard dying in his arms and he knew that it was majorly bothering the brunet. He could hear Jaskier’s heartbeat become erratic each time the witcher shivered and winced. He could see the sadness making Jaskier’s smile become hollow and pale. Even if Geralt was trying his best to control his memories and emotions, he was ruining everything.

They were talking for hours, and the witcher loved it, he cherished every minute of it and cursed himself because he couldn’t show it to Jaskier. It was just so damn hard to look at his laughing face and not see it being distorted with terror and fear.

“Geralt?” Jaskier's soft voice was dragging him back to the present and he was ashamed immediately because he couldn’t even remember when he zoned out. “This is not working is it?” Came the brunet’s dry chuckle and the witcher was now turning his whole body towards the other. Fuck. Jaskier looked so defeated. He was just laughing and joking a minute ago and now he looked absolutely crushed.

“Jaskier I…” Geralt started quietly. His voice was awfully raw and husky and he realised it was because he hasn’t spoken in gods knows how long. Fuck, he couldn’t be this bad at this.

“No, I get it. You don’t have to apologise.” Jaskier cut his sentence in half and looked up to those wide amber eyes. Gods he was so gorgeous. He never told  _ his  _ bard what his eyes did to Geralt and he wished he would have the courage now to speak up. “You told me I remind you of someone. Someone who you lost I assume?” The brunet asked with a pained smile and Geralt was speechless again. He was only able to nod his head and Jaskier sighed. “I don’t want to do this with you.” The brunet continued and Geralt could feel his heart drop into the bottom of his stomach. “You look so… like… fuck like I’m torturing you.” Jaskier stuttered and turned away from the witcher raising his eyes skyward, as he leaned back on the bench. Geralt couldn’t take his eyes off him. His long white neck was stretched and the mutant wanted nothing more but to pull him closer and bury his head where Jaskier’s shoulders met his neck and inhale his sweet scent. Geralt was sure if he can’t explain this it will be last time he sees the brunet like this and the panic somehow forced him to open his goddamn lips.

“He died in my arms.” He whispered and he wasn’t sure it was loud enough to count as speaking but Jaskier’s body trembled at his voice and the young man looked at him with concern. “You remind me of someone who died in my arms and it was my fault.”

“Fuck Geralt I…” Jaskier gasped but couldn’t say anything coherent. The witcher’s jaw was tense and he was glaring at his own quivering hands. “You shouldn’t have to agree to meet me with then. Gods. I’m such an idiot. When you told me to fuck off in your house I thought you are just being a dick and fuck… I’m so stupid.” Jaskier groaned and run his fingers through his soft hair. “I-I will go.” Jaskier mumbled and slowly pushed himself up from the bench and Geralt’s heart clenched painfully. He was on his feet so fast all the birds from the park flew away in panic when the witcher grabbed Jaskier’s wrist.

“Don’t.” Geralt pleaded and Jaskier turned to face him again.

“You don’t have to do this Geralt. You don’t owe me anything. I’m not blaming you for Essi’s death and I-I will be alright. I can take care of myself.” The brunet spoke gingerly and Geralt wanted to punch himself in the face so badly. The witcher snarled, he was gritting his teeth and could feel the slight fear linger in Jaskier’s scent. Use your words Geralt before it’s too late.

“It’s hard” He croaked out finally and raised his amber eyes to look into those bottomless blue orbs. “to look at you. It’s killing me.” He admitted and Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat at that. “It hurts every single time but fucks it feels so good.” He hissed and for a half-second Geralt was afraid he will crush Jaskier’s wrist between his fingers, so he let go of the brunet’s arm. “I want to get better. I know it will get better. It has to.” Geralt snarled, so angry at himself he was seeing red. “But I need you to… to… just to…” The witcher couldn’t find the right words but Jaskier understood him even like this.

“Okay.” The brunet whispered and Geralt wanted to shout at himself for being so weak and pathetic. “Okay. Whatever you need I can do it. I want to help you Geralt.” Jaskier nodded more like to himself than to the silver-haired man and Geralt was so fucking grateful for him he wanted to grab him and kiss him silly. In that second Geralt believed he was the luckiest man on this Earth and he was goddamn sure he didn’t deserve Jaskier. Geralt wasn’t good enough for him seven hundred years ago and sure as hell, he wasn’t good enough for him now either. But even if it kills him, he will make it right this time and he prayed his luck won’t run out any time soon because Geralt needed every drop of it

“Do you think it’s late enough for a beer?” Jaskier asked and the mutant nearly cried out from relief when the brunet smiled.

“I fucking hope so.” Geralt groaned and Jaskier’s lively laugh caused a burst of warmness in the witcher’s chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Geralt's PTSD just joined this chat*
> 
> I hope you like this chapter, if you thought now it's gonna be all fluff and sparkles, well I have some bad news for you laddie!
> 
> If you wanna shimmy yourself into my life you can find me on twitter.
> 
> @doberainbow
> 
> Buh-bye!


	7. The Drunken Bard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier was a mess. When he was drunk he was pure chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello loves!
> 
> I hope everyone is doing okay!
> 
> Another day another slay another Geraskier tale!
> 
> Did you see what I just did there? Anyhow, GO AND READ!
> 
> PS: All the monsters in this fic are totally legit. They are from the Witcher Wikipedia site so blame them not me :"D

_“_

_ Okay, alright alright. It’s not funny, Geralt stops laughing.” _

_ “I’m not laughing.” _

_ “Well, you are not frowning and snarling so you are laughing.” _

_ “No, I’m not.” _

_ “See, that twitchy thing, that was a smile.” _

_ “It wasn’t.” _

_ “You totally think I’m hilaaaarious.” _

_ “I think you are a lightweight.” _

_ “I think you’re a cock.” _

_ “Hm.”  _

Geralt didn’t know how he ended up dragging Jaskier’s drunken mess of uncoordinated limbs on the streets. They just wanted to drink a beer. Only one beer. They needed it after Geralt’s confession and they walked into the first pub they found on the streets after leaving the park. Trying to avoid the elephant in the room was easier than the witcher thought it would be and not much later, the conversation and teasing were back again. Jaskier was throwing question after question at Geralt who tried to use as many words as he could force out of his lips. Jaskier was eagerly drinking everything Geralt spilled about the history and the brunet wasn’t just consuming stories. After they finished the first beer, there came another one. Then another one with something stronger on the side. Geralt’s mutation and fast metabolism were heroically fighting against the alcohol in his system but he could feel his fingertips tingling and his cheeks getting warmer. Jaskier on the other hand was hammered. The brunet was giggling nonstop and barely could hold his head up as he babbled. His sentences became shorter without a start middle or a finish. He just put words he thought worked together behind each other and grinned when the witcher didn’t understand him. Geralt couldn’t help but smile at him.

He used to drink a lot with  _ his  _ bard. They didn’t need a special occasion to celebrate. If they had some spare coins, they spent it on ale and sometimes even wine when Jaskier felt like it. The poet could his liquor quite well and before Geralt could see him being too drunk the bard always disappeared either in his own room or someone else’s.

But now Jaskier was sitting in front of him with his unfocused, glassy eyes staring at Geralt with a silly smile on his face. His hair was chaotic and he was having a hard time sitting straight up in the booth. He was asking about kings and queens and empires and it was very difficult to remember their names when he was this drunk. Jaskier seemed to ask about everyone he ever read about in the history books.

Geralt had to tell him about the day he met King Foltest and fought against his daughter. Jaskier needed a shot of something strong when the witcher told him the king fucked his own sister. Well, Geralt guessed they didn’t mention that in school.

He had to tell him everything about Queen Calanthe and all he remembered about Cintra. Geralt never talked with the Queen herself but the witcher was good friends with Mousesack who often complained about Calanthe when they met on the road. Geralt finds it difficult to describe the cities and castles as much as he wanted to. He wasn’t a poet but each time when he looked at Jaskier the brunet just had that lazy smile on his face and was staring at Geralt like the mutant was talking about something heart-stopping.

Jaskier’s questions became more slurred. He messed up the centuries and often forgot what he wanted to ask from the witcher but Geralt just grinned at him. The drunken man was adorable and Geralt caught himself staring for way too long seconds. Jaskier didn’t mind it. Each time when he saw the witcher’s eyes linger on him for minutes he just winked at Geralt and hoped he didn’t close both of his eyes in the process.

Geralt decided it is time to go after Jaskier accidentally sat next to the seat and ended up under the table when he was coming back from the bathroom.

_ “Ya didn’t see that right?” Jaskier mumbled when he pushed himself up to stand next to the table and frowned at Geralt. _

_ “See what?” Asked the witcher with a smile and the brunet just snorted. “We should go.”  _

_ “Yeah, sure I will just finish my uh whiskey then.” _

_ “It was vodka and you already finished it.” Geralt corrected him and stood up to help Jaskier move away from the booth. Jaskier fell into his arms willingly and while the mutant hooked an arm around the brunet’s narrow waist, he throws his arm over Geralt’s broad shoulder and cackled when in the first few steps their legs got tangled and they nearly fell over. The mutant saw as the elderly bartender just shook his head judgementally as the pair walked out of the pub.  _

Geralt ended up dragging Jaskier whose legs seemed to become jellylike and clung onto the witcher like a lovesick octopus.

“I think you’re a cock.” Jaskier mumbled after Geralt called him a lightweight but there was no spice in his words and he giggled when the witcher just hummed at him. “The last time when I was this pissed I nearly got a tattoo.” Jaskier said with a grin and Geralt frowned at the man who just shrugged. “The artist didn’t lemme in the shop but I was  _ this  _ close to getting a tattoo Geralt.” Mumbled Jaskier and held up his hand with his pointing finger and thumb pressed together tightly. “Do you have a tattoo Geralt?” The brunet blinked at him and Geralt just shook his head while they were waiting for the light’s to turn green so they can cross the street safely. “I mean I saw you practically in nothing, Gods, that towel was small Geralt, but yanno, you can have a tattoo hidden somewhere I didn’t see.” Jaskier murmured and after a second Geralt could smell his scent getting heavier.

“I don’t have a secret tattoo Jaskier.”

“Not even a tramp stamp? You lived this loooong and managed to not get a tramp stamp after a bad breakup?” Jaskier laughed loudly and Geralt was not quite sure what the other was talking about but as long as he found it funny the mutant didn’t mind. A bad breakup he said? Geralt just snorted and shook his head. Jaskier was so plastered he was sure he won’t even remember this the next day so the witcher let himself open up a tiny bit.

“I have never ended a relationship before.” Geralt confessed and Jaskier’s legs stopped cooperating with the rest of him in that second and they were now standing in the middle of the empty street. The mutant looked down to the man hanging off of him like a couple of grapes and Jaskier’s large bright eyes were staring at him in awe. The brunet was studying his face like it was the first time he had seen Geralt and slowly licked his top lip.

“How…how is that… I mean, you do own a mirror right? Or witcher’s don’t have reflections or somethin’?” Jaskier babbled and Geralt was now frowning at the drunken young man in his arms.

“I have a reflection.” Geralt answered and a second later Jaskier just let out a frustrated noise.

“How didja never tell someone to piss off? How people aren’t obsessed with ya Geralt? Have you seen you?” Jaskier asked with disbelieve and the witcher wasn’t sure which questions he should answer first but the brunet didn’t even give him time to think about it. “You are so bloody gorgeous it’s unfair and you’re telling me you don’t have a clingy ex after what, eight hundred fuckin’ years on this Earth? Have you lived in a cave?” Jaskier’s words were slurred but they were clear enough for Geralt to hear them and feel his stomach twist. Of course,  _ his  _ bard often teased him with his appearance. He called Geralt’s many things before; wolfish, grouchy, occasionally handsome  _ if  _ Geralt would just stop frowning all the time, once the poet told him he is built as a double wardrobe and that confused Geralt a bit, but the troubadour never called him ‘bloody gorgeous’. He sometimes told the witcher his eyes were a beautiful shade of amber and that Geralt could have nice hair if he would take care of it, but he never… he never said that the mutant looked bloody gorgeous. “Don’t look at me like that I know you know what I’m talking about. You have seen how those people were staring at you in that diner.” Jaskier rolled his eyes with a grin and slowly started to walk again pulling the silver-haired man’s bigger frame with him. How did those people look at him? With fear and disgust of course. There was nothing else behind those eyes, it was always just hatred. Geralt was dumbstruck and didn’t know how to answer any of that.

“I did live in a cave once.” He murmured under his breath and Jaskier looked at him to see if the witcher was lying but then Geralt knit his eyebrows together. “The sixteenth century was shit.” Geralt added that with a shrug and a second later Jaskier was howling like a hyena. His whole body shook and the mutant had to tighten his grip on Jaskier’s waist to keep him up as he laughed.

“You are the weirdest man I have ever met Geralt of Rivia and not because you are an immortal space cowboy.” Jaskier snickered and the witcher had absolutely no clue what the other just called him, but Jaskier was warm and giggling by his side so he just let himself enjoy the moment.

The road back to the brunet’s flat was longer than it should have been as Jaskier was taking one step forward and two steps back, but Geralt was fine with that. After a few streets, Jaskier started to sing a song Geralt thought he heard once on the radio in Yen’s house but he wasn’t too sure. The brunet’s voice hasn’t changed at all, if anything it just became more beautiful even if he was off his trolley and could barely stand. Or it was just the alcohol talking in his brain, but Geralt didn’t care. Jaskier was loud and he was laughing through the song when he forgot the lines and the mutant caught himself grinning as the brunet serenaded.

“I maybe can’t fuckin’ walk straight but I can sing,” Jaskier shouted and there was a cheer coming from a balcony somewhere above them. “Thank you, kind stranger, whoever ya are. I never did anything straight in my life anyway.” Jaskier called back with a smirk, loud and proud and a few whistles were echoing between the buildings. “I love this neighbourhood.” Jaskier giggled as he holds onto Geralt’s shoulder tighter.

If dragging Jaskier’s lanky arse home was difficult, then pulling him up the stairs was absolutely impossible. The whole house was noisy from the brunet’s voice as he tried to hold back his cackling while he tripped on his foot at each step. Geralt of course could pick him up and carry him easily but the last time he had Jaskier’s whole weight in his arms the bard’s heart stopped breathing and the witcher was sure he couldn’t handle that memory right now. So he just kept holding the brunet as he stumbled upon the stairs. Jaskier dropped his keys not less than three times and even managed to kick it further away when he tried to grab it and Geralt thought it would be easier if he would work the door open while the brunet was quietly singing a soft tune and buried his face into Geralt’s arm as the mutant unlocked the door.

“Would you like a tea or coffee?” Jaskier mumbled as they walked in and Geralt pulled him closer before the man could run into the kitchen and put the kettle on. Boiling water and drunken Jaskier somehow seemed to be an awfully dangerous pairing.

“No.” Geralt mumbled while he kicked the door shut and slowly navigated the brunet towards the old sofa. Jaskier fell onto the cushion with a giggle and nearly broke the small ukulele as he accidentally sits on it.

“Sorry Darlin’.” He mumbled and placed the instrument on the floor while he toed off his shoes. Geralt just stood there and watched as the man wriggled and shimmied his way out of the boots and groaned when he actually had to reach down and untie the knots. “Geraaaalt, I’m hungry.” The brunet whined and now he was lying on the couch with his legs dangling across the armrest.

“You gave your chips to the pigeons.” Geralt said but he was already taking off his boots by the door and marching into the kitchen.

“True.” Jaskier mumbled and he tossed onto his tummy to see the witcher. “What are you doin’?”

“Something to eat.” Geralt answered blatantly and Jaskier’s lips fell into a small O shape. He used to hunt and cook dinner for  _ his _ bard countless times. The poet could make a great fire by the time the witcher returned and Geralt was good at roasting whatever animal he caught. They shared their food, drinks even their bedrolls many times before but of course, the drunken man on the couch knew nothing about that. He just saw the feared Butcher of Blaviken open his fridge and look for something he can make a sandwich with.

“Do you realise how absuuurd this is?” Jaskier asked with a wide grin and Geralt stopped to look at him with a half-empty bag of sliced bread in his hands.

“It is?”

“Gods yes. This is the most surreal thing from the past week. You, the great White Wolf making me some snacks in my kitchen at… at whatever godforsaken hour is now.” Jaskier chuckled and the mutant just continued to look into the cupboards for a plate. “I’m so gonna cross this out from my bucket list. Let a celebrity make you some food. Done.” The brunet giggled and Geralt shook his head in the kitchen with a smile.

“I’m the furthest thing from a celebrity Jaskier.” He said gruffly but the other could see his lips curl skywards.

“Nonsense. You had songs written about you Geralt. Many-many songs.” Geralt just hummed at that and tried to chase away the painful memories in his head about those many-many songs. “Do you have one?” Jaskier sat up on the sofa and threw his head over the backrest. “A bucket list I mean. I guess you have plenty of time to fulfill it.”

“Hm.”

“Oh come on. I know ya at least for a week now. Tell me about your biggest secrets. Where would you go if you could go anywhere? What would you do if you would have all the money on Earth? Come on. Even a witcher must have some wishes.” Jaskier grinned at him and the mutant just stared at the butter knife in his hand. He would give everything to be able to just walk up to Jaskier and pull him closer. To just hold him for hours and hours and listen to him drunkenly talk about anything. “What is it?” Jaskier’s smile was broad and cheeky and Geralt finished the sandwich and walked towards the sofa where the grinning brunet sat.

“You don’t want to know that.” The mutant mumbled and Jaskier’s eyebrows ran upon his forehead and he put down the sandwich before taking a bite.

“Oh. Tease. Why not? It’s embarrassing? Is it something illegal?” Jaskier whispered and the witcher just shook his head with a grin. “Or is it something so adorable I couldn’t handle it? Geralt, do you want to swim with dolphins or somethin’? Because I have to disappoint you but you know they won’t let you in the pool at the local Zoo.” Jaskier was now just taking the piss but if anyone could get away with it, it was him and he probably knew it very well.

“Hm. Maybe I should try and sneak in. I’ve never been to the Zoo before, I doubt they could stop me if I really tried.” Geralt wondered loudly and the words which came out of his mouth and his stoic, frowny face was too much to handle. Jaskier was laughing loudly while munching on the sandwich, which was the best goddamn sandwich anyone ever made for him. The brunet just hummed as his tummy started to settle down after the first few bites when something hit him.

“Wait. You have never been to the Zoo?” He asked with his mouth full and even though the words were coming out incomprehensible the mutant somehow managed to understand what was Jaskier trying to say and Geralt just shook his head shortly. “What? You have never… You are totally wasting your immortality, Witcher.” Geralt snorted at how outraged Jaskier was with his cheeks stuffed full with bread and crumbs were sitting on his chin.

After the brunet angrily finished his sandwich while scolded Geralt because ‘How could you never go and pet an alpaca Geralt, an alpaca!’ it seemed like a good idea for Jaskier to start writing a to-do-list for the mutant. The witcher just sat there next to Jaskier and took the scolding from the brunet. Apparently, Geralt wasn’t normal if he never has been in a cinema or never had frozen yoghurt. All these things were meaningless to him. Sometimes Yen insisted to take him somewhere new, try something he never did before and Geralt refused it every single time. But now, as Jaskier was scribbling something on a back of a takeaway food flyer, the witcher actually wanted to experience whatever the brunet was talking about. As long as Jaskier would be there with him, he could drag Geralt anywhere and make him eat whatever he thinks the witcher should eat. Jaskier was listing things for over an hour while scolding Geralt and slowly slid lower on the couch until he was laying on his back and just murmuring.

“Jaskier?” Geralt whispered and gently shook the other by his shoulders. Sleepy unfocused blue eyes stared at him and the witcher only realised now how close they actually were.

“’ R you gonna sleep here?” The brunet yawned and fuck if Geralt didn’t want to fell asleep here breathing in his fresh lavender scent. “You can have my bed, I’m good here.” Jaskier rambled and patted the old couch under his body and closed his eyes again with a groan. Geralt couldn’t move. It would be so easy to just hold him here on this small sofa until the Sun comes up. He wanted to. He wanted to place Jaskier’s head in his lap and run his fingers through his silky hair and listen to his soft happy noises. He wanted to…

Geralt moved a few minutes later and scooped up the sleeping youngster into his arm. The witcher’s heart was pounding. He didn’t dare to look down as the brunet’s head fell against his chest when Geralt lifted him up and walked towards the bed. He pulled back the covers with one arm while holding Jaskier’s whole bodyweight with his other until he could put down the man on the mattress. The lute was still on the other side of the king-sized bed and after Geralt pulled back the blanket over Jaskier’s shoulders, he grabbed the instrument and placed it against the wall. The sleeping man mumbled something unintelligible and Geralt let his eyes linger on his lithe form for a few more minutes. He was so unfairly beautiful. Geralt didn’t move closer because he knew that if he goes to the bed he will touch Jaskier’s face, maybe even tuck some hair behind his ears to see him better, but he couldn’t do that.

He used to spend hours just silently watching  _ his  _ bard while he slept. It was creepy, he knew that and he was careful to never get caught, but he couldn’t help it. There were just something so eternally youth and breath-taking about Jaskier. He could watch him like this forever but the longer he stared at him the faster those dark and miserable memories came back. The guilt and shame and grief. Geralt turned away and walked to the front door.

Tonight or rather last night because it was already past two in the morning, was like a fever dream. Geralt’s brain was trying hard to understand how could Jaskier be with him. His mind was bombarded with hurtful images all night and yet each time he opened his eyes the brunet was there, alive, smiling and staring back at him. It was difficult to swallow it down and it was even more painful to watch Jaskier being confused by Geralt’s mood swings.

One minute he can’t take his eyes off the other and in the next minute he flinches away like he was poked with a burning rod. Geralt knew he should tell him. He should tell Jaskier who he was, and how Geralt once buried him and cried on his grave for days before he was dragged away by Yennefer. He should tell the brunet not only his name belongs to Geralt’s bard, but his whole being. He should know who he truly is. It wasn’t fair on Jaskier, but the witcher was terrified if he would tell him the brunet would never talk with him again. How could you tell someone that his whole life and existence was nothing but an experiment by a desperate mage? No. Geralt can’t tell him even if he wanted to and he knew it was something he should do. It could destroy Jaskier’s whole life. Maybe he would never forgive Yen. Maybe he would never forgive Geralt either. It was something he couldn’t swallow but had to live with.

Maybe one day.

Geralt didn’t know where their relationship was going. The witcher knew that he was absolutely terrified and wasn’t quite sure what he wanted. He wanted  _ his _ bard of course, but even though this young man was exactly like the poet, he wasn’t really him. Jaskier didn’t have his memories from their adventures. Geralt wasn’t Jaskier’s muse. He wasn’t Jaskier’s best friend and Geralt wasn’t sure if he could fell for this Jaskier just as blindly and stupidly as he fell for  _ his  _ bard. Maybe. Maybe not.

Geralt never truly knew what  _ his  _ bard was feeling towards him. Yennefer told him she saw the poet’s last thoughts and he wholeheartedly loved Geralt until his last seconds, but the witcher never believed that. Yennefer said many things to make him feel better those days, weeks, and Geralt cursed himself every damn time for never confessing his love to the troubadour and let the poet tell him his true feelings.

And here was this young man, who seemed to be so thrilled to be around Geralt and get to know his World, yet the mutant was scared. Jaskier could wake up at any day and the buzz of being part of something so dangerous and mysterious would be gone and the brunet would understand that he was only enchanted by Geralt because it was new. After all, it was still Geralt. He could offer little to nothing. He only had his terrible personality and the fact that maybe he would fall in love with Jaskier one day. It wasn’t too promising and Jaskier was clever. He would know fast enough that Geralt was not worth it.

His thoughts were bothered by his phone’s notification. He was driving home when he got a message from The Continent. He pulled over to read the small file. It was nothing out of ordinary. A couple murdered in their own house. Nobody went in or out, the doors and windows were locked. The young couple was seemingly attacked by some large animal.

Geralt closed the file and accepted it as his new case. He flicked on his indicator lamp and turned around in his car, going back to the city center. He needed something to distract him before he falls into another rabbit hole of self-doubt.

He had some other messages too and missed calls from Yen. She wanted to know how his ‘not date’ date was with Jaskier. Geralt will ignore her for a while. He was still pissed at the mage because she was trying to fix… or maybe ruin Geralt’s life. He wasn’t sure about that yet.

The two bodies were in pieces. It wasn’t too much left behind of the victims after the attack, but it was clear what did it. The stench of a rotting soul and dog hair was heavy in the air. Someone hated this couple strongly enough to summon a barghest from the underworld and make it do the dirty work. Whoever was the one controlling the ghost dog was interested in black magic. It could turn out horribly wrong. Maybe it was just a one-time attack, or the necromancer was just getting started. Geralt needed to hurry and as soon as he left the morgue he was driving to the crime scene.

It was around six am when his phone rang and his screen said it was Yennefer. Geralt pressed the green icon with a sigh and looked back on the road.

“Good morning Geralt. Can I make a bold assumption?” Yen’s awfully jolly voice at this early hour after the mutant slept nothing was already giving him a headache.

“Well, nothing would stop you anyway.” Geralt mumbled and the mage just chuckled at that.

“I think you are grumpy because you barely slept last night after you spent your whole evening with our little lark.” The mage said in a nasal sing-song voice and Geralt winced at how out of tune the other was.

“I didn’t sleep at all.” The witcher clarified it and there was a cheerful holler coming from his phone, so loud it chased away any bit of sleepiness from the mutant’s head.

“You still have that witcher stamina after all those years of celibacy my dearest friend, I am absolutely amazed. And happy for you as well of course.” Yennefer  _ of course _ misunderstood him and Geralt just groaned as the mage start jabbering.

“Yen!”

“You have to tell me everything Geralt. I want to know everything. Gods, I can’t believe you, you sly dog.”

“Shut up Yennefer. I didn’t sleep with him.” Geralt snarled and for a second there was nothing but static noise coming from the phone before the mage spoke again.

“Then why the fuck are you giving me the idea of you two had sex?” Yen shouted and the mutant’s skull was pulsating with pain.

“I didn’t.” Geralt grunted and the woman on the other end of the line just snorted.

“Gods, I was already writing my speech for your wedding. How about ‘When I first met Geralt he was dragging his boyfriend’s sorry arse into my orgy’ as an opening line? Too much?” Yennefer asked and the witcher couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“Who said you will be invited?” Geralt asked and after a light-hearted chuckle, the mage’s voice turned to be more serious.

“What happened Geralt?”

“I fucked it up.”

“Nothing new about that. How badly?” Yen asked and Geralt just gritted his teeth together.

“Some memories came back when he held my hands. Memories of  _ him  _ dying.” The witcher whispered and Yennefer stayed quiet and let him gather around his words. “After that, we talked. I didn’t… I couldn’t tell him the truth but he freaked out and got drunk.”

“Did he say he freaked out or  _ you _ think he freaked out?” Yennefer’s know-it-all voice came and Geralt just knit his eyebrows together. “Because you’re not the best at reading people, Darling.”

“He wasn’t fucking happy that I see someone dying every time I look at him, Yen.” Geralt rumbled and the mage just exhaled loudly on the phone.

“I think you are overreacting as always, but whatever. Did you take him home?”

“Hm.”

“What a gentleman you are.” Yennefer grinned even though Geralt couldn’t see her he knew the mage too well. “Where are you now?”

“Driving to a crime scene.” Geralt sighed because this fucking road was taking forever.

“Ugh, boring. Never mind. Call me when you finish and just an advice Geralt, people love waking up to a message from their loved one, even if it only says ‘Good Morning’.” Yennefer said and even before the witcher could respond to anything she hangs up the phone. The mutant glanced at his phone on the passenger seat and then threw back his head against the headrest with a growl.

Geralt arrived at the house a little bit after seven and he parked his car on the street. The police tapes were still covering the front yard and the door as well. The neighbourhood was still quiet as it was Saturday morning. The witcher stared at the house for a few seconds before he reached for his phone and opened his messages. His fingers were hovering over the letters as he frowned at his screen. It seemed stupid to send a text without an actual message. He closed his eyes for a second and imagined if he would wake up to his phone beeping and it would be Jaskier’s name as a notification. Well, he knew it would be something rather idiotic in the message but it would put a face on his smile early in the morning so it was decided.

** “Good morning” **

Said the text and Geralt quickly pocketed his mobile and stepped out of his car. The house inside was reeking of death. It had a sulphuric scent and it made the air heavy. If someone will summon a ghost from the underworld to kill a couple like the one who lived here it had to be personal. Everything in their house screamed ordinary. There was nothing out of place, even the neighbourhood had that getting-together-for-a-barbeque-on-every-weekend feeling. Geralt felt like he was sticking out like a sore thumb. He spent an hour looking around in the house for anything suspicious and found fuck all which meant only one thing; he has to talk with friends and relatives.

“Fuck.” He muttered and in that same second his phone chirped in his pocket.

** “*jaskier’s migraine joined the chat*” **

Said the message and Geralt knit his eyebrows together as he read it again before another text popped up.

** “everything hurts and im dying. send help” **

Now the witcher understood that one but had no idea what to reply. He couldn’t just text ‘Hm’ as an answer.

** “what is a ‘Gerlt’s list todo’?” **

Jaskier asked and Geralt bit back a laugh at that. After all, he was being utterly unprofessional and was texting on a crime scene where people died.

** “You wrote me a bucket list” **

Said his message and he could already see Jaskier typing.

** “this is brilliant. if my head wouldn’t fall apart i would scream now.” **

** “you want to hug a raccoon?” **

Geralt should leave this house because he was now laughing and it was highly inappropriate.

** “You want to hug one and you thought I do too” **

** “ah alright. when r we going to see a ballet? and u seriously never been in the cinema?” **

** “I’m working on a new case now and yes, I have never been there.” **

Geralt replied quickly and he could see Jaskier typing then stopping for a few seconds before the three dots in the bubble appeared again.

** “i won’t bother u then, but can i ask u something real quick? did u carried me to bed cuz i remember sleeping on the sofa.” **

The witcher wanted to say that he was indeed bothering him officially but Geralt didn’t care and even if he finds texting awkward and unnecessary he didn’t want Jaskier to stop. But the message second half was something that made him uncomfortable.

** “I did” **

He sent the message and waited with a scowl. Did he do something wrong? He wasn’t supposed to carry him to bed? He used to put  _ his  _ bard or more like throwing him over his shoulders when he had enough of him or when the poet was too drunk to move and the mutant simply carried him wherever Geralt wanted him to be. The troubadour often got injured while he stumbled over something on the road and the witcher was always there to lift him and put him on Roach’s back. It was never something either of them mentioned it just happened between them. Maybe the poet never said anything because it was embarrassing for him or… Geralt’s train of thoughts was distraught by his phone again.

** “it was really nice of you but you gave me the weirdest boner right now” **

** “i cant believe i just said that. ignore me” **

** “im going back to bed. this never happened and im still drunk” **

** “have a nice hunt. please forget all of this” **

Geralt just blinked at his phone like an idiot. What just happened? He was waiting minutes for another message but it never came and he had work to do and can’t just stand here all day and try to analyse what Jaskier’s texts meant. He will show it later to Yennefer. Now he needed to talk with the victim’s relatives.

Geralt needed to learn the rules of texting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing drunken people are hard! Not as hard as Henry Cavill's abs but you get the point.
> 
> If you wanna talk to me you can find me on twitter or feel free to send me a raven!
> 
> @doberainbow
> 
> Ca caw ca caw  
> ⋛⋋( ‘Θ’)⋌⋚


	8. It would make a badass tattoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt starts working on the new case and calling Jaskier more times than he probably should. But fuck the rules, he is a witcher.

Geralt was emotionally drained like a wet rug twisted for too long and too hard until the material gave up and ripped apart. Talking with grieving friends and relatives was everything Geralt hated the most about this job. They were seeking for answers he couldn’t or was not allowed to give and they didn’t answer the witcher’s questions properly. There was a lot of crying and… touching. Geralt didn’t want to count it how many times he ended up being hugged by a weeping grandmother or how many times someone used his shoulders to cry on. It was uncomfortable, to say the least. He missed the old times when people were afraid to even look him in the eye. Now he was just a detective working on their murdered or missing relative’s case and some people take that as an invitation get too personal or even flirt with him.

This case was just like the other. The murdered couple’s friends were devastated and demanded answers even before Geralt started the hunt. The young girl’s mom couldn’t even talk through her sobs and the witcher left her house without getting any closer to a suspect. It was not helping at all, he needed to approach this from a different angle.

“Well hello, it’s nice of you to check-in Geralt but we already talked this morning.” Yennefer’s voice is smooth as always in his ear as the witcher sat in his car again at the victims’ house.

“I need your help.” Geralt grunted and she knew that the mage was grinning from ear to ear.

“Songbird giving you trouble already?”

“It’s about the hunt.” Hissed the mutant, but truth to be told he wanted to ask Yennefer’s opinion about Jaskier’s text messages. But only later. “Someone summoned a barghest.” Geralt said and the woman just groaned loudly.

“Is the crime scene hidden enough?” Asked Yennefer shortly and the witcher just hummed as a response. “I will be there in a few minutes.” Said the mage and hang up the phone. Geralt walked back into the victims’ house and closed the door. The sulphuric smell was still hurting his senses but he needed to wait for Yennefer before he could open a window. The stench was the worst in the living room where the couple was slaughtered and everything was covered in dried blood. The mage didn’t lie. A couple of minutes later Geralt heard the air sizzling in the room and Yen stepped through a portal in a dark bathrobe and a towel around her hair like a turban. Geralt cracked a smile at that. It’s been years since he saw the woman being so casual and it was a good look on her. “Not a word. I’m here to help you on my day off so piss off.” Yennefer rolled her eyes even before the witcher could say anything and closed the portal behind her. “It stinks.” She grimaced while closed her purple eyes and breathed in deeply.

“Anything?” Geralt asked after a few silent moments and the mage slowly exhaled and lifted her lilac gaze to meet the witcher’s golden eyes.

“It is really subtle but sometimes the bond between the necromancer and the barghest can leave behind certain feelings. Whoever summoned this beast, their emotions were so strong I can still feel it in this room.” Yen looked around, her fluffy slippers were stepping over red spots on the floor as she walked in circles.

“What do you feel?” Geralt asked as he watched the woman look at some family photos on the shelves with a fond smile on her face.

“Jealousy.” Yen said and turned to face the mutant. “You should start asking questions about evil exes or someone who got rejected by the victims.” The mage voice was velvety as always but what she said just made Geralt sick in his stomach. Human jealousy was a disgusting motive and it was always leaving a big mess behind. “I don’t know who was the real target here, the girl or her boyfriend, but whoever did this was new and didn’t know much about magic otherwise I wouldn’t be able to feel emotions through the bond.”

“So there is a big chance that it won’t happen again now that the couple is dead,” Geralt asked and the mage just shrugged with a sigh.

“Well, it depends. Who knows if the necromancer only had a beef against these poor people. Maybe they have a whole list of names they want to murder.” Yennefer pursed her lips together and it was now Geralt’s turn to exhale long and loudly. “But anyway, how was your date?” The mage voice was immediately lighter and she tilted her head to the side staring at the witcher.

“We are on a crime scene Yen.” Geralt shook his head and the woman just frowned at him.

“Well, whose fault is that again?” Snapped the mage but there was no real bite behind her words. “Honestly, how are you Geralt, because you smell like cheap alcohol and I can’t believe you are still wearing a leather jacket and skinny jeans while you are interviewing friends and families. So unprofessional.” Yennefer grinned at him as she shook her head and the witcher just raised an eyebrow at the woman.

“Well, whose fault is that I’m wearing this?” He asked back and the mage chuckled.

“Your arse looks sinful in that trouser so you are very welcome, but seriously, are you alright?” Geralt snorted and Yennefer walked closer to her friend.

“I don’t know Yen.” The witcher whispered and the mage stayed quiet as always when she was waiting for Geralt to open up. “I don’t know if I can love Jaskier as much as I loved  _ him.  _ I don’t know if I can ever look at him without seeing him dead in my arms. I don’t know if he is going to wait until I figure it out what the fuck I want and I don’t know if he could ever love something like me.” The mutant’s voice was throaty and broken. His lips were chapped and he hated how Yennefer was watching him without blinking.

“Geralt you will love this Jaskier just as you loved the other one. They are the same. He was the love of your life and you were his.”

“But he died Yennefer.” Geralt interrupted with a hiss. “Everything changed since then. I changed. The Jaskier I used to know would never fell for someone like me… for someone like who I become after I lost him.” It was one thing to think about something in your head and then saying it out loud was totally different. As soon as you vocalize it, it becomes real and there was no turning back from there.

“You are being an idiot again.” Yennefer spoke and reached to hold the witcher’s face. “You are broken Geralt but you are still  _ you. _ How many times I have to tell you to stop doubting yourself. What if this Jaskier is different than  _ your _ bard. Make him fell for you again then. You two belong together, like the two sides of the same coin and no matter how rusty and fucked up one side is, it’s still the same fucking coin.” Yen’s voice was tough and Geralt didn’t even dare to look away from the mage. “Now go and find the murdered before it’s too late.” She said with a grin and patted Geralt on his stubbled cheek. “Did you text Jaskier this morning as I said?” Yennefer asked while she opened a portal.

“Hm.” Geralt only nodded and the mage was smirking at him proudly.

“He liked it didn’t he?” Yennefer laughed when the mutant just frowned at her as she stepped through the magical gate.

Geralt had to go back to the station. He needed someone to hack into the victims’ social media and find out who could have been jealous enough at them to unleash a hell hound. If there is an unregistered magic user out there it could easily become a huge problem and danger to society.

The witcher was not a big help in the office. He didn’t understand what the information technology expert said, and after a few minutes, he could feel how anxious everyone was around him. He went to wait on one of the empty hallways and asked the IT guy to call him when he finds anything useful. He hated this. Waiting and not being able to do anything. These kinds of murders were new. When monsters were known and feared most of the people take their revenge and hatred in their own hands. Nobody wanted to unleash demons and beasts. There were curses of course. Potions as well, it wasn't unusual to poison someone or pay for a curse but humans tried to stay away from monsters. Now everyone could find spells on the internet, and even though everyone thought it was nothing but a silly prank, only one person had to try it to realise that actually works.

In The Continent, countless people were trying to prevent these accidents. Yen used to do it for a couple of months before he got bored and asked to do something else. Yennefer said that erasing memories of teenage girls who were trying to talk with a ghost as a slumber party joke and accidentally summoned some beasts, were not entertaining at all. Geralt couldn’t argue with that. Humans were curious and because they had no idea how dangerous a séance could be nothing was stopping them from trying out everything they found on idiotic websites.

Of course, mages were turning mad and trying to expose this hidden world Geralt and The Continent was protecting, but these wizards and witches were always caught and prosecuted. That was something Yennefer enjoyed doing. Playing this cat and mouse game with rogue mages.

Geralt was impatient. He could nearly hear everyone walking around and chatting on this floor even if the hallway he chose was quiet. He tried to shut it out but his mind was too puzzled to do that. He needed to distract himself while he waited for the results from the IT team. Geralt even before he could think it through and understand it was a terrible idea he reached for his phone and called Jaskier. If the brunet takes a longer time to pick up the phone Geralt would have probably hung up once he realised he has no idea what to say or how to explain the sudden call but Jaskier was already answering and his smooth voice was echoing in the witcher’s head.

“Why hello Geralt, what a lovely surprise.” The mutant immediately felt his heartbeat double in speed and he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. “Are you alright?”

“Hm.” Geralt grunted and could hear the other chuckle.

“You need something?” Jaskier asked again and there was subtle wariness in his tone which made Geralt groan.

“No. I’m just… waiting.” He managed to croak it out and a few seconds later there was a surprised little ‘Oh’ coming from the younger man. “I’m waiting for some results about the case and…” Geralt started the sentence and midway through recognized he has no idea how to finish it so he just let it hang there in the air and hoped that Jaskier will understand it.

“So you are bored and decided to call me?” The brunet asked and the witcher couldn’t see him but knew it very well from his voice that he was smiling.

“Hm.” Geralt huffed and Jaskier laughed aloud.

“Well, I still couldn’t find a new job yet.” The brunet started and immediately the mutant’s shoulders relaxed and he let himself get lost in Jaskier’s silken voice. Geralt didn’t need to tell him that he wanted a distraction, the blue-eyed man just knew it and the witcher was so fucking grateful for that. “I started working in that pub after I finished high school and I honestly have zero experience in other fields but customer service just eats my soul, you know? I mean, not in a monstery way but, it’s just not something you can do forever.” Geralt didn’t know. He never did anything besides being a witcher but he let out a small noise from his throat which was enough to reassure Jaskier that he was listening. “I wanted to go to uni, study music history but I couldn’t afford it. I still can’t even now years later. I wanted to move to Cintra with Essi, but… never mind. I’m just lost and I need to pay my rent and this is not the land me some money talk right now, no. I’m just… this is not how I imagined my life will be when I’m twenty. Do you ever miss being young? Younger?” No, I just missed you. Geralt thought but didn’t say it out loud. The mutant just opened his eyes and stared at the white ceiling.

“I miss my horse.” He mumbled and a moment later Jaskier was laughing so loudly Geralt had to move the mobile further away from his ear as he grinned. Of course, Geralt had a dozen horses all named Roach because he was too lazy and too emotionally attached to the name to change it, but he always remembered them as one.

“Tell me about it,” Jaskier asked still giggling and the witcher closed his yellow eyes again.

“She used to my best friend for centuries.” Geralt admitted and the brunet just softly cooed into the phone. “I miss having her around. I… used to travel alone and had only her to talk to. She never judged me just listened. I…” Fuck, it sounded so foolish. Of course, Roach never told him to piss off, she was a horse. Geralt talked like a lunatic.

“Don’t stop.” Came Jaskier’s quiet voice and the witcher could feel a shiver run over his spine.

“I miss the bard.” Geralt admitted it and it was nothing more than a whisper and half of him hoped that Jaskier won’t hear it.

“Master Jaskier? How was he?” The brunet asked and the witcher sighed slowly before he opened his lips to talk.

“So fucking annoying.” Geralt grumbled and Jaskier just chuckled at that. “He just attached himself to me one day and never left. It took me months to get used to his company he talked… he talked all the time. When he didn’t he was either singing or sleeping.”

“Sounds like someone I know.” Jaskier chirped and Geralt wanted to say ‘You have no idea’ but he just shook his head with a smile.

“He was a great man. The best I’ve ever known but he was a pain in my arse.”

“Why he wasn’t… I mean… Yennefer told me about the immortality potion. Why Master Jaskier didn’t drink it with you two? Or-or he didn’t want to become immortal?” The brunet stuttered and Geralt had to swallow the heavy lump in his throat before he could answer.

“He was only human. The potions would have killed him.”

“Oh.” Jaskier’s voice was weak and the mutant knew that the brunet was worrying his lips with his teeth while his mind was racing. “I’m sorry you lost your friend.” Geralt laughed dryly at that. If Jaskier would know how ironic it was he would laugh with him as well. “How did you cope with it because fuck, I’m a wreck since Essi died. I’m trying to hold it together but…” The brunet’s voice faded away and the witcher could hear his shaky breaths.

“It never disappears.” Geralt said and he knew he should lie to make it easier for Jaskier but he couldn’t. “There will be times when it’s better, but it will never go away.”

“You still think about him? The bard.”

“Always.” Rasped Geralt so fast and honestly it even surprised him.

“If-if it’s easier you can always call me Julian you know,” Jaskier said hesitantly and Geralt wanted to tell him that it doesn’t matter how he calls the brunet because he is  _ his  _ bard.

“Jaskier is fine.” He murmured and heard a please hum from the other.

“Alright. But it’s an option you know. You already told me I remind you of someone you lost and I share my name with the Greatest Bard so I must be a walking talking trigger for you.” He was so much more than that, Geralt thought but he didn’t say anything.

“I’ll manage.”

“Well, I hope so because I just figured it out where I will take you after you finish this case. And by taking you I mean I will ask you to drive us there while I will tell you where to go.” Jaskier’s voice was cheerful with a dash of mischief in it and Geralt just had a slack smile on his pale face. “I started to write a new song this morning. It’s about you.” Said the brunet and he sounded uncertain, even afraid what will be Geralt’s response to that and the silver-haired monster hunter brain just went blank. He blinked up at the ceiling waiting for Jaskier to continue. “I know I have to keep this as a secret and I don’t plan to publicly sing it or whatever it just… helps me get it off my chest. Uh, that sounded awfully corny. Anyway. I just…”

“Sing it for me.” Geralt interrupted and a second later he gritted his teeth together and cursed at himself silently. “If you want to I would like to hear it. Not now but one day.” He tried to save it but it just sounded even more desperate. He was waiting for Jaskier’s teasing but the line was quiet, he only heard the brunet’s rapid breathing before he spoke again.

“Yeah Uhm sure. Definitely. One day. It’s not finished yet, but when I’m done I-I will sing it for you.” Jabbered the other while Geralt let out the breath he was holding back and his phone chose that moment to buzz in his grip. It was a message from the IT team, they found something.

“I have to go.”

“Oh yeah of course. People to save, monsters to slay and all that.” Jaskier rambled and Geralt needed to get rid of that idiotic smile he was wearing before he walked back in the office.

“Thanks for…”

“Sure. No problem. Call me if you need a distraction again. Or you are bored. Or you just want to hear my lovely voice. We can even use the camera if you want to see my marvellous face.” Jaskier joked and Geralt stopped himself before he could hastily agree to that. “Well, talk to you soon right?” The brunet asked and Geralt nodded before he realised that he had to use his words while he was on the phone.

“I will call you later.” Whispered the mutant and could hear a sharp inhale from the other end of the line before Jaskier cleared his throat.

“Take care Geralt.” Jaskier said and the witcher wanted to record the way his name rolled off the brunet’s tongue so he could listen to it whenever he wanted to.

“Hm.” It was all he managed before he ended the call and slid his phone into his back pocket as he stood up and walked away from his hidden bench on this empty hallway.

He got a list of names and addresses of a potential suspect. The man who talked with Geralt was reeking of fear and the paper was shaking between his fingers as he handed it to the witcher who just walked out of the office after a short nod. He worked with these people and for this organisation for decades now yet everyone acted like they are waiting for the mutant to go feral one day and butcher everyone in the building. It must be such a disappointment that Geralt was a civilized man. There were fourteen names in the file, most of them are ex-partners of the victims’ and by knowing Geralt’s luck the real necromancer was probably not on the list, or they will be the last one.

The witcher walked to his car and opened his trunk where his witcher equipment was. His car was protected with a spell. If someone wanted to search through his vehicle they wouldn’t find anything unnatural. They would open up the trunk and they would see it as it was empty while in reality it was filled with various weapons, potions, and other magical objects he might need for a hunt. It was a handy spell that Yen put on his car a long time ago after Geralt had a problem with the police and the mage had to erase the officers’ memories when they looked inside the witcher’s car.

The mutant wasn’t wearing his witcher medallion since the twentieth century. Magic since then was easily detected by other amulets and Geralt put his necklace in a box with his other memories and relics. It was too painful to see that necklace every day in the mirror and touch it when he was getting dressed. He just used other magical objects to help. If he can find and talk with these people from the list hopefully the bond between the barghest and the necromancer will be strong enough and the amulet will catch it and tell Geralt.

It was already after midnight when Geralt managed to get home. He talked with three suspects, and all of them were innocent. They had no magical connection and Geralt could hear their heartbeat while he told them what happened and none of them faked their shock. All three suspects cried on the witcher’s shoulders until the mutant excused himself and left their house. He forgot to eat again and he had to stop by a small grocery store on his way home. He needed to wash the scent of tears and common human smell off from his skin before he could eat anything because it was too distracting.

Microwaving frozen food was something Geralt couldn’t get used to. He appreciated it, it was so convenient yet terrible at the same time. Because of his mutation, he could taste the preservatives in everything and Geralt could only eat freshly or semi-freshly made food. Yennefer often said he was just being  _ picky _ and the mage glared at him while he ate his ‘rabbit food’. Vegetables and fruits were better than meat. Geralt could taste the hormones forced into the animals to grow faster and bigger in their flesh. He never thought this modern world would make food taste so bad but it did.

** “r u still working?” **

The messages came from Jaskier while Geralt finished his dishes and wiped his hands in the kitchen towel.

** “I’m home just getting ready to sleep.” **

Geralt texted back as he went into his bedroom and sat on his bed. He looked down on his phone and saw Jaskier type something then suddenly stop. The mutant frowned. His message definitely sounded like he tried to get rid of the brunet by saying he is going to bed. Texting was impossible.

** “Are you alright?” **

** “i cant sleep” **

Came the sort reply and Geralt again had no idea what he was supposed to say to that.

** “how do u sleep after everything” **

Jaskier asked and the witcher leaned against the headboard and crossed his straight legs at his ankles.

** “I don’t dream.” **

Geralt said and again he was grateful for his dreamless nights.

** “i envy u. every time i close my eyes i see her head” **

** “i dont know how to shut it down” **

Geralt was frustrated. Jaskier shouldn’t have seen that horror and it was the witcher’s fault. The brunet wouldn’t have difficulties with sleeping if Geralt does his job properly and not getting too distracted by Jaskier. Once someone witnessed something so cruel and shocking it will never go away. He knew that from experience. These night terrors weren’t new. Sometimes because  _ his  _ bard witnessed the ugly side of the world while he followed Geralt to his hunts, he had nightmares. Not often, but it happened that the witcher woke up in the middle of the night because of how hard the poet was shaking and sobbing in his sleep. The first time it happened Geralt was clueless what to do until  _ his  _ bard told him.

_ 1230 _

_ The fire was now nothing more than just ember and heat. The forest was still too quiet even after Geralt killed the kikimora what lurked in the swamp. The animals needed a few more days before they return and until then, it was just silent. The only noises were coming from the fire and the rapid heartbeats from the other side of the camp were the bard rested on his bedroll. Geralt lifted his amber eyes to the lithe form and frowned. The poet couldn’t even stay quiet in his sleep. He was constantly fidgeting and mumbling under his blanket but this time it was different. It wasn’t just some blabbering, no. Jaskier was making these small sobs and weeps. The vulnerable noises reminded the mutant to a wounded animal. He never heard the troubadour whimper like that before. _

_ “Bard?” Geralt called over the fire but the brunet just shivered in his sleep. “Jaskier?” He tried again a little bit louder this time but there was no intelligible response just a small choked cry. “Fuck.” Grunted the witcher and stood up from the broken tree trunk he used as a chair. When he moved closer to the poet and the smoke was no longer filling up his senses the stench of fear punched him in the guts. Jaskier was having a nightmare. Geralt closed the distance between them and now was kneeling next to the bardling. “Jaskier!” He whispered and gently touched the bard’s quivering shoulder. The poet whimpered again and Geralt lightly shook him. “Wake up!” Jaskier’s frightened blue eyes snapped open, his breath jumped in his throat and he bolted up from the bedroll nearly headbutting the witcher. The mutant didn’t move away as those round eyes stared at him with confusion and fear for a few seconds. _

_ “G-Geralt?” Jaskier’s voice was raspy and weak as he blinked at the silver-haired man in front of him. His hair was damply plastered across his forehead and his cheeks were flushed red. His whole body was drenched in a cold sweat and he was panting hard. “Gods, I’m so sorry did I wake you up?” Jaskier forced a shaky smile on his face as he looked at the mutant who just frowned at him. _

_ “I wasn’t sleeping.” Geralt mumbled at the bard just nodded at that and looked away. He still smelled wrong and his heartbeat was way too fast, it was deafening. “Are you…” Tried the witcher and when Jaskier’s tired eyes looked at him again Geralt just pursed his lips together. _

_ “Oh yes. Of course. No worries. Just a bad dream. Angry husbands you know. The usual.” Joked the brunet but his laugh was obviously forged. Geralt stared at him for a long moment before he just grunted some sort of noise and straightened up to walk back to the fire. “Geralt?” Jaskier said weakly and the mutant looked down at the sitting poet who had broad shoulders and was nearly as tall as Geralt but now seemed so vulnerable and fragile. “Can you just…t-talk to me?” The bard was so quiet the witcher barely heard him and as soon as Jaskier said those words he turned his head away. “Your voice as surly as it is, it calms me down.” Jaskier murmured under his breath and Geralt was speechless. More than usual. The witcher was nothing but a beast. People were scared of him and even though Jaskier seemed to be immune to all of that the silver-haired man never thought that the brunet finds his presence calming. “I know you hate talking and you don’t have to it’s just…” _

_ “What do you want me to say?” Geralt interrupted and Jaskier’s astonished eyes were back on him as the witcher bent his knees and sat down in the grass next to the bard’s makeshift bed. _

_ “Anything.” He whispered and that was the last thing Jaskier said that night. Geralt started to tell a story about his younger years at the School of the Wolf and the poet was just watching him with a gentle smile on his face. A little bit later Jaskier laid back into his bed and closed his eyes, but Geralt could tell from his heartbeat that he was awake. _

_ It didn’t take long until the brunet fell asleep while the mutant talked about his training. That was the first night when Geralt hasn’t slept because he was mesmerized by Jaskier’s sleeping face.  _

__

Geralt sat on his bed with his back against the headboard with an idea in his mind but not enough guts to act on it. Fuck it.

** “Do you want me to talk?” **

He sent the message and those twenty seconds until Jaskier texted back were cruelly playing with his nerves.

** “i would love that” **

Geralt didn’t need to call the other because his phone was already buzzing with the incoming call he received with a sharp inhale.

“Hey.” Jaskier's voice was sleepy and Geralt could hear the noise of his sheet and pillow as he moved in his bed.

“I met him in 1229.” The witcher said the first thing that popped into his mind and he heard Jaskier’s blanket ruffling as the brunet laid back on his bed with a please little moan. Geralt had no idea what he will say, or why he started with that, but Jaskier was quiet now and waiting for him to continue so the mutant just did that. “My horse needed a break after I killed a moa.”

“What’s a moa?” Jaskier asked and Geralt smiled at how curious his voice was, there was no more weariness in his tone.

“It’s like a wywern or a smaller dragon.” The mutant explained and the brunet just hummed in return. “I only went into that tavern to have one drink and he was performing there.”

“Master Jaskier?” Jaskier’s voice was there again in his ear and if Geralt would just close his eyes he could pretend that they were lying in the same bed.

“Hm.”

“What did you thought about him?” The brunet asked and the witcher’s heart was hammering in his chest fast but not in a painful way like it used to when he thought about  _ his  _ bard.

“Young, loud, flamboyant. The song he was singing made no sense.” Jaskier laughed and it was so soft like he was just leaning against Geralt’s shoulder and chuckled into his skin. “His voice was expressive but the song was terribly written.”

“You never told him that did you?” Asked the brunet and the mutant shook his head with a grin.

“No, because I liked it.” Now Jaskier was giggling freely and Geralt already knew that was the most precious sound he will ever hear. “He couldn’t finish the song because people started to throw food at him.”

“Tough crowd.” Jaskier sighed and the mutant just snorted.

“It was. Later once he told me sometimes he sang bad songs on purpose when he was hungry so folks will throw something he can eat.” Geralt admitted but he didn’t say that when  _ his  _ bard told him that the witcher promised him that if he follows Geralt he will never have to starve again. He kept that small memory to himself.

“That sounds awful and unsanitary.”

“It was different back then.” Geralt murmured and Jaskier didn’t say anything to that. “I knew he was watching me while he sang. I knew that he will come over and try to talk.”

“Did he?”

“Of course, he was an idiot.” The witcher mumbled and Jaskier laughed again into the phone. “He said he liked the way I was just sitting and brooding alone and he wanted me to tell him what I think about his song while he was waiting with bread in his pants.” Geralt continued and the memory put a silly smile on his otherwise sour complexion.

“Did he know that you are witcher?” Jaskier asked and the mutant just grunted a small no. “Bloody hell he was totally coming onto you. Shamelessly might I add. This is brilliant.” The brunet howled and the witcher just frowned for a second. “He saw your pretty face and he was like ‘Yep, I’m gonna tap that’.” The brunet babbled and Geralt was just baffled. He never thought… “Geralt? Are you there?”

“I never thought about it that way.”

“But it makes sense?” Jaskier asked and fuck. It did. The poet had no idea who he was when he walked to Geralt. He had no idea what he was he just… wanted to talk? Get to know him? No one ever looked for his company unless it was about a monster or fucking.

“It might.” Geralt croaked it out and the brunet just cackled again at that.

“Did you give him the critiques?” Jaskier chirped again and the witcher grinned.

“I did. I told him the creatures in his songs are not real. That was when he figured it out what I was.”

“Who. Not what. You’re not some animal Geralt.” The soft scolding was so familiar yet it made his heart clench. “Did he ask you to let him follow you?” Jaskier asked and the witcher just snorted.

“No, I left him there in the tavern and went for a hunt. The fool just came after me and never left.”

“Will you tell me? Your first adventure together.” Jaskier said quietly and Geralt just did that.

He told how the poet run after him up the hill and told him he smells like death and heartbreak and onions. Jaskier lazy giggle was making Geralt smile as well. He told him how they ended up tied together and how terrified the bard was. The witcher could feel his heart beating where their backs were pressed together, and the bardling’s scent was going haywire. He told Jaskier how surprised he was that this young poet spoke the Elder Speech and how easily he talked back to their capturer. Geralt told him the story about Filavandrel the leader of Free Elves. The witcher was talking until Jaskier’s responses were nothing more than just sleepy hums and grunts. He described the lute that the elf gave to the troubadour who nearly cried when he first held the instrument in his trembling arms. The mutant told Jaskier who was slowly dozing off about that damn song he wrote and what was the bard’s answer when Geralt snarled at him that his story wasn’t exactly true.

_ “Respect doesn’t make history.” _

Jaskier said that it would make a badass tattoo and the witcher just agreed with a grin. Geralt also admitted that he wanted to leave the bard there in Dol Blathanna but the brunet just kept jogging after him and shouting his name until Roach stopped and the mutant waited for the poet. Jaskier fell asleep when Geralt said that he let the bard follow him because he was the only person he ever met who never smelt like fear around him.

Geralt hang up the phone after he listened to Jaskier’s slow breathing silently for a few minutes. That night the white-haired witcher was saddened because he couldn’t dream. Once in his lifetime Geralt was sure he would have enjoyed whatever he would have seen in his sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello folks!
> 
> I hope all of you are safe and healthy! 
> 
> Are we going to talk about why Joey Bakey-Nerdy is so goddamn perfect and how good he is at drawing demon horses? In top hats.
> 
> come and find me on twitter
> 
> @doberainbow
> 
> Greg the Horse for President!!
> 
> Peace out!


	9. Geralt is a horse girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, 
> 
> I'm backbackbackback back again with a surprise!
> 
> I have a beta, the lovely; @LadyAhiru who is brilliant and there are no more grammar mistakes folks :"D

“Where are we going?” Geralt asked as he drove out of the city centre. Jaskier was not telling him anything just directions and he was wearing a smug smirk on his face. As mysterious as it was it did drove Geralt up the wall. They had been sitting in the witcher’s car for over twenty minutes now and so far Geralt managed to somehow focus on driving and ignore the fact that the young man next to him looked absolutely delicious. Maybe he should have eaten before he met Jaskier.

“It’s a surprise.” The brunet said with a grin and looked up to the silver haired man who was sporting a serious frown. “And judging by your face you hate surprises.” Jaskier sighed and his scent in the car was changing immediately. “I should have known that. Fuck I…”

“I don’t hate them I just…” Geralt interrupted when he heard the brunet’s heart panicking and Jaskier was staring at him with those bright blue eyes and the mutant had to grip the steering wheel harder. “I never had a pleasant surprise before.”

“Oh.” Jaskier’s tiny surprised ‘Oh’ was filled with concern and sorry and that was exactly what the witcher didn’t want from the other. “Well you will like this one. I hope so. Don’t worry it’s nothing extreme or-or humiliating or anything. I’m not taking you anywhere weird,” the brunet mumbled but the confidence disappeared from his tone and he was nervously nipping on his bottom lip. Geralt wanted to reach out, hold his face and tell him it didn’t matter. The brunet could take him to a landfill and the witcher would be fine with it as long as Jaskier smiled at him. But the other was anxious and fidgeting since he had climbed into the car and Geralt wanted to cancel this whole thing. He didn’t want Jaskier to feel like this because of him. They could literally just sit in a dark room in complete silence and it would be the best date Geralt ever had, yet here they were, driving somewhere unknown. It would be fine. Jaskier wanted to surprise him and the witcher couldn’t wait to see where they were going. He just wished the brunet would stop shaking in his boots.

“Anyway, tell me about your case. How did that turned out?” Jaskier asked with a smile, twisting under the seatbelt to look at Geralt’s profile. Of course he couldn’t sit straight. Each time when the witcher allowed to _his_ bard to travel with him on Roach the poet was squirming and turning behind the mutant restlessly. He was hooking up his arms around the witcher’s waist tightly and his fingers were just everywhere. They drew circles onto his abdomen, they were tugging on his armour and sometimes they even sneaked under Geralt tunic to force out an angry hiss from him when the bard pressed his cold skin onto the Witcher’s warm stomach. He was infuriating and the mutant’s brain couldn’t cope with the gentle teasing touches. Geralt once tried to have the troubadour sit in front of him in the saddle but Jaskier just ended up with a strained neck because he kept twisting it to look at the Witcher. The memory was painfully old but it did make his heart beat faster.

“Well I found the woman who summoned the barghest.” Geralt grumbled and the brunet nearly climbed out of his seat at that.

“Yeah? Who was she?” Jaskier asked and the mutant peeked at him exactly when that pink tongue ran across that chapped top lip and Geralt was sure he would crash his car before the night ended.

“She used to date with one of the victims. She got jealous when she heard about the engagement.” He spoke hastily and deep and averted focused his eyes back on the road, not looking anywhere else from now on if they wanted to survive this evening. Sitting next to Jaskier while he looked at him like _that_ was probably more dangerous than drunk driving. Geralt had no experience in that field but this was how he imagined was being intoxicated behind the steering wheel felt like. He felt unsafe and he loved every damn second of it.

“That is quite tragic.” Jaskier mumbled and the mutant just hummed as an agreement. “Did she confessed or it was just based on the evidence?”

“I had an amulet with me. It lights up and reacts around magic. As soon as she opened the door we both knew she was caught.” Geralt explained and Jaskier eyes were still glued to his face.

“Why the bandages?” He asked pointing with his chin towards the mutant’s right arm which was heavily wrapped in clean gauze.

“The barghest was still there.” Geralt said through his teeth and Jaskier let out a tiny gasp.

“Oh my god, it attacked you?”

“It bit me.” The mutant hissed and Jaskier tried really hard to bit back his laugh but a snort escaped no matter what and those blue eyes enlarged in horror.

“Sorry.” He quickly apologized as Geralt glared at him and the brunet was biting into his bottom lip which was heavily trembling. “I didn’t mean to it’s just…” Jaskier squeaked and a chuckle burst out of him. “Sorry it’s just.” He clapped his hands over his mouth. “I don’t know why I’m laughing at this, this is terrible. I’m sorry.” The young man jabbered and as the witcher looked at his red cheeks and confused eyes he couldn’t help but smirk and shook his head.

“It nearly bit off my arm.” Geralt said with a toothy grin and there was a full body laugh bubbling out of Jaskier right after that. It was deafening and refreshing like summer rains.

“Oh Gods, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why this is so funny.” Jaskier giggled through his words and held onto his sides as he watched the mutant laugh with him. “Are you not going to turn into some half demon dog creature are you?”

“More than this you mean?” Geralt asked back and Jaskier threw back his head against the headrest cushion as he cackled.

“I can drive if you would rather stick your head out of the window and bark at other cars.”

“Hm. Let me just pull over.” The witcher said with a grin as he looked at the brunet and saw Jaskier staring at him with a silly smirk and flushed cheeks. He was so fucking gorgeous it was hard to bear.

“I like your laugh.” The brunet said in a breathy voice and Geralt quickly snapped his head back towards the highway and cleared his throat. His grin disappeared immediately and he clenched his jaw. “It’s not the ‘you should smile more’ talk Geralt. It’s the ‘your laugh is bloody adorable’ talk.” Jaskier chattered and was now sitting absolutely sideways in his seat and studied the witcher with his gleaming eyes.

“People usually don’t like it.” Mumbled the mutant in a rough voice and the brunet just knit his eyebrows together in a concerned scowl.

“What? Your laugh? Why?” Jaskier asked and lifted his head from the seat to look properly at the silver haired man.

“Witchers are not supposed to…”

“Be happy?” The brunet finished his sentence and Geralt just nodded sharply. “Seriously? They can all go and fuck themselves.” Jaskier huffed and dismissively flicked his wrist.

“It freaks people out.” Geralt tried again but his voice was raspy and his mouth was dry.

“What? Your happiness? That’s just”

“My teeth.” The mutant interrupted Jaskier’s heated ranting and the cornflower eyes widened once more and those peach-pink lips were hanging open. “They scare humans.” Geralt muttered and the brunet swallowed whatever responds he had prepared before.

“W-well I am a human after all and your pointy teeth don’t scare me so the others are just being cowards.” Or blind, Jaskier added in his head sheepishly. It was kind of terrifying how much Geralt’s sharp canines turned him on, but he would not share that with the brooding witcher. He just let his cheeks get a deeper shade of crimson as he shooed away some images including the man’s razor-like teeth on Jaskier’s own bare neck. “Khm. You should take the next exit.” He mumbled as he sat back on his arse and faced the windshield. Geralt turned on the indicator smoothly as he changed the lanes.

“Are you going to tell me now?” The witcher asked and blinked at the brunet quickly just to see a shy smile creep up on those plump lips.

“Not a chance Witcher. You will see it soon.” Jaskier grinned at him and checked the GPS on his phone.

_Ellander Farm Animal Rescue Park_

Geralt read the rusty sign three times before he looked at Jaskier who was just standing next to him and staring at the witcher.

“I have some questions?” Geralt asked or confessed he wasn’t too sure as he raised a white eyebrow at the brunet.

“We are going to adopt a cow.” Jaskier grinned and judging by his face he saw the terror in Geralt’s eyes. “I’m just taking the piss. Come on. I want to show you something.” He laughed and walked towards the wooden gate leaving Geralt behind. “Come on.” Ha called over his shoulder and the mutant’s numb legs finally followed the younger man towards the entrance. They walked through the stoned path towards a modern building which looked like and smelled like a veterinary office and Geralt had more and more questions building up in his head.

“Jaskier?”

“Wait here, I will be right back and I will explain everything.” The brunet turned back with a blinding grin and Geralt was too baffled to say anything, he just pursed his lips and nodded his head. Jaskier went inside the building and the bell above the door rang sharply. The whole place smelled like forest and fields and it was like a breath of fresh air for the witcher after the stench of the big city. He missed this. He missed nature and even though he still had no idea why they were here he wasn’t nervous anymore.

“Alright, thank you. Will do!” Jaskier laughed as he walked out of the building five minutes later and closed the door behind himself. “Okay, this way.” He chirped and showed the way to Geralt. Behind the veterinary office there were dozens of stables and barns and it was noisy from the hundreds of animals.

“Jaskier?” Geralt called after the brunet who was walking a little bit too fast and the witcher just wanted to stop. “Please!” The mutant said and Jaskier froze immediately.

“I’m sorry. I’m freaking out like crazy. I don’t know if this was a good idea to bring you here. I swear it seemed like a brilliant thing in my brain but…”

“Where are we exactly?” Geralt interrupted and stood closer to the younger man to look him in the eye. Jaskier was fidgeting under the yellow gaze and he was doubting himself big time.

“This is a park for abused and mistreated farm animals. I thought… you said you miss your horse so I thought…” Jaskier shrugged and was waiting for Geralt to say anything but the witcher just studied his rosy cheeks and big eyes. “I thought you would like to come here and maybe just do some volunteering. Sometimes. If you want to. You don’t have to of course but… o-on their website they said they needed people who are good with horses. They need someone to take them out because they spend too much time in the stables. I don’t know. If-if you want to we can go back to my place and watch a movie or something.”

Jaskier was babbling and he hardly made any sense and the way he avoided Geralt’s eyes was not helping the witcher’s case either.

“You brought me here to be with horses?” Geralt asked because that was what he concluded from the tsunami of words what Jaskier released on him.

“I-I guess.” The brunet finally looked up and met with wide golden eyes. “Oh gods, you hate it right? Fuck.” Jaskier groaned and before he could ran away and hide in a ditch or something he was wrapped in heat. All the air left his body immediately as Geralt pulled him into a tight hug and those impossibly toned arms held him close to the mutant’s body.

The brunet shivered as his chin was resting on Geralt’s shoulder and his arms were hanging awkwardly besides him. The witcher was warm, feverish even and he smelled like nothing but clean, sun-kissed skin. It didn’t make any sense. Geralt was pale as a sheet. He really shouldn’t smell this good.

“Geralt?” Jaskier asked and tried to turn his head so he could see the mutant’s face but they were too closely pressed together. He gave up and melted into the strong arms. Geralt on the other hand was tense. He had Jaskier’s tiny waist under his fingers and his slow breathing was tickling his neck. He never wanted to let go of the brunet but he had to. He shouldn’t had to hugged him like this and held him so close, but he wanted to fill his lungs with Jaskier’s lavender scent and rub it into his own skin. Geralt stepped away quickly and put quite some distance between their bodies. Jaskier looked disoriented and had a lazy smile sitting on his lips.

“I guess you don’t hate it?” He asked and Geralt controlled his emotions enough to be able to shook his head.

“I don’t.” Geralt whispered and he wasn’t sure Jaskier would hear it but the other grinned and grabbed his left hand so the witcher took that as a yes.

“Come on.” The brunet spoke softly and tugged Geralt until the witcher was walking behind him towards a stable.

The big wooden door was slightly open and as Jaskier pulled it wider the mutant was punched in the guts with the familiar smell of horses and hay.

“It always reminds me of the circus.” Jaskier hummed as he took a deep breath and let go off Geralt’s hand. “The owner said we can take any of them to the fields as long as we stay inside the fences. No one really tried to ride them before, but they have some saddles and the-that face harness thing.”

“Reins.” “Bridles” Geralt said with a smile and Jaskier neck flushed red as well.

“That. Yes. Well. I don’t know anything about horses honestly.” The brunet grimaced and scratched the back of his head. His tight azure shirt rode up on his abdomen for a second but it was enough for Geralt to see one sharp hipbone, a patch of smooth skin and loose half of his brain’s capacity. Great. “They also told me on the phone that we can clean them. I don’t know if it’s something you like doing or-or not.” He shrugged and thank fuck, lowered his arm before Geralt had a stroke.

“Hm, I do like it.” Geralt murmured and Jaskier had a mischievous grin on his face.

“Geralt of Rivia don’t tell me that secretly you are a horse girl?” The brunet asked with a giggle and Geralt just frowned at him.

“I don’t know what does that mean but I’m neither a horse nor a female.” He muttered quietly and Jaskier threw his head back with a laugh. His long neck was perfectly on display and Geralt was weak at his knees.

“Come on, teach me everything about these majestic animals oh wise Witcher.” Jaskier cackled and threw one arm over Geralt’s shoulders.

Jaskier was falling. Geralt was literally gleaming. Of course his scowl and permanent sour face was still there but he could see how calm the witcher was around these animals. Jaskier stood back. He just watched as the man whispered to one horse when he thought the brunet couldn’t see him. Jaskier just stood there and stared as the silver haired monster hunter closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against a black mare’s cheek. His chest was pained as he watched Geralt press a soft kiss onto the horse’s fur and brushed the tangled mane gently.

He was not alright. Seeing Geralt like this was troubling. To knew that how full of love the witcher was yet he couldn’t quite express it with humans was truly tragic. Jaskier was nearly tearing up as he followed Geralt’s soft moves and saw how these abused creatures became so demure and lovely from the kind attention. It was something Jaskier never thought he would witness and it felt so private he blushed each time the witcher spoke softly to a horse and smiled shyly at them. Jaskier felt like he should leave and let the mutant be alone for a few minutes but he couldn’t move. He wanted to see Geralt like this more often. He was always so tense and on edge like a cornered animal, always ready to fight. Now it was all gone. The mutant’s broad shoulders relaxed. He looked younger and soft. Jaskier’s heart would explode from all the euphoria. He was watching Geralt for god knows how long as the man walked from stable to stable and petted all the horses. Jaskier wanted to step in front of him and pull him closer. He wanted to feel those strong hands caress him like that. Gods, he was falling and there was no safety net below.

Geralt decided to take one of the mares for a walk. When Jaskier asked why he chose that specific horse the witcher just said ‘because she needs it the most’. It was rather cryptic but the brunet decided not to ask questions now. The animals seemed to love Geralt. Jaskier couldn’t really blame them, there was nothing to not like about the man and it was getting very difficult to hide it. He didn’t know what they were actually doing. Were they dating? Hanging out like friends? Helping each other cope with their past? Jaskier didn’t know and he wanted answers but was too afraid he wouldn’t like them.

He thought it wouldn’t hurt him if Geralt would only seek his company because Jaskier reminded him of someone the witcher lost. It did hurt him to think about that. He wanted Geralt to enjoy spending time with him. With _him_ and not with somebody else’s memory. It was childishly selfish the brunet knew that but he didn’t feel guilty about it. He wanted Geralt to… to want him. Jaskier sighed. He was so stupid, he shouldn’t let his emotion taking charge of his head. Wanting to spend one wonderful night with the gorgeous knight in shining armour and wanting the same knight to look at him and only see him, was totally different.

Jaskier needed to get over this silly crush of his before it scared Geralt away. The man seemed to be suffering from PTSD and Geralt didn’t really have a healthy relationship with his own emotions either. Jaskier didn’t want to cause more pain. He would swallow his own needs and enjoy the man’s company as a friend, because that is what Geralt really needed. A friend, not someone who fell in love with everyone only to forget them when the morning came. Geralt deserved better and Jaskier was afraid of himself. He was afraid that after he got the witcher, he wouldn’t want him anymore. He would never forgive himself for that. He couldn’t hurt Geralt. It would break both of them.

“She seems happy.” Jaskier said softly as Geralt tied a long lead rope to the reins and the horse was trotting in big circles around the silver haired man. Geralt was such a fucking horse girl.

“She smells happy.” Spoke the witcher and looked at Jaskier who was leaning against the fence with his back.

“You can smell that?”

“I can smell most of the emotions.” Geralt mumbled and caught Jaskiers gaze with his amber eyes as the brunet’s face paled and mouth hung open. Well sooner or later Jaskier would find out that Geralt was indeed a freak. It just happened right now.

“Wait. So… you can, you can do that with humans as well?” The young man’s voice was shaky and he didn’t look up at Geralt and yes, his scent changed, Jaskier was freaking out.

“Hm.” Geralt hummed and Jaskier could feel his stomach drop.

“I-I guess it’s only working if the person stands really close.” Said the brunet and he had absolutely no idea who he wanted to convince, himself or Geralt, but the witcher stared at him with a confused face and Jaskier swallowed the lump in his throat down.

“No. I can smell you from here.” The mutant said deeply with a puzzled look and Jaskier could swear his heart just stopped right there.

“O-ohmyfuckinggods!” He shouted and spun on his heels, immediately storming back towards the stables.

What the bloody hell? Could Geralt tell what he was feeling and thinking by his scent all along? Jaskier was literally eating him up. Many times. The brunet could feel his cheeks and whole body flaming up.

“Jaskier?” It was Geralt of course because he was so goddamn perfect he came after Jaskier and just stood there with the confused horse and his unfairly gorgeous face. “Does it bother you that I can smell your emotions?” The witcher asked and Jaskier wanted to tear his hair out. Bothered him? Not really. Freaked him out? Yep. Turned him the fuck on? Hell yeah.

“No.” He muttered and Geralt frowned at him. “You know that I’m lying right?” He asked a second later and the witcher just nodded. “Gods.”

“I’m not good with feelings and… people but being able to do this it helps me understand others.” Geralt explained slowly and it was more like a hiss just coming through from between his teeth.

“I would never ask you to stop or-or deny this from yourself Geralt. I’m not angry at you.” Jaskier whispered and looked up to see the mutant getting even more bewildered.

“Then…” Geralt asked and stopped after a word and shook his head. His face was unreadable and he pressed his lips together in a fine line.

“It’s humiliating. For me.” The brunet admitted with a deep sigh and Geralt looked even more troubled. “I sometimes have thoughts I’m not proud of or-or they just not really… innocent.” Jaskier swallowed and his voice was becoming so small and fragile at the end it even surprised himself. The mutant of course was still studying his face and holding onto the lead rope tightly even though the horse was gently bumping its snout into his forearm.

“You confuse me more than anyone.” Geralt’s voice was raw and frustrated and the brunet lifted his blue eyes to meet the yellow glare. “I can’t ever tell what you think. You are the only one who… who can hide it and…” The witcher cursed and snarled at himself, turning away and slowly leading the black mare back into her box stall.

“Geralt!” Jaskier closed the distance between them and grabbed the witcher’s hand. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. Please don’t think I hate this. I don’t. It is new and kinda weird but it doesn’t scare me.” The brunet explained hastily before Geralt could walk away and the witcher finally looked at him. “You probably can’t tell what I think because even I can’t sort out the mess in my head. My brain is just busy all the time and when I’m with you it’s even more chaotic.”

“Why?” Geralt asked and it was more like a breath than a human made sound.

“B-because you sometimes remind me of the most terrible thing I ever witnessed and yet I feel safe besides you. Safer than anywhere else. I think you are fascinating and not because you are this immortal monster hunter with white hair and golden eyes but because you’re whispering to horses to calm them down and-and you call me when you are anxious and you look at me each time like I’m something special and you can keep up with my jokes and you have this dry humour and you are incredible.”

Geralt was speechless. Never in his long life had he wanted to kiss anyone as much as he wanted to kiss Jaskier right now. Not even _his_ bard and he wanted the poet for so long and with his whole heart. Yet now there was this young man ranting about meaningless things about Geralt which meant so much to the witcher. He was looking at Jaskier like that because he was special. He always was, not just for Geralt but for everyone. He called him when he was anxious because Jaskier’s voice calmed him down and the brunet made him laugh like an idiot and fucking took him to a farm to be with horses and Geralt’s heart could not keep up with this.

“Jaskier I…”

“Oh boys, here you are.” The door for the stable was pulled open by the owner who was the most delightful middle aged lady Jaskier ever met and in this holy second he hated her more than anyone. “I wanted to ask you to bring her back because it’s feeding time but you already did. Did you like your surprise my Dear?” Looked the blonde woman at Geralt who was still staring at Jaskier for a few more moment before he lifted his amber eyes and glared at the lady.

“Hm.” He grunted and for a second the owner’s smile trembled.

“It was lovely, thank you so much we are so grateful.” Jaskier stepped in with a beaming grin and the woman giggled. “Would it be possible for us to come back sometimes?”

“Of course Darling. Just sign the papers at the front desk like you did today so we know that who is in the park and you are more than welcome to stay any day. You told us your friend here is very handy with horses and gods we need help with them. Volunteers and visitors are always welcomed.” The lady said with a smile as she blinked at Geralt and back to Jaskier with a knowing grin.

“Khm. Thank you, w-we will be coming back right, Geralt?” The brunet looked up at the witcher who was still standing there like a morose statue.

“Hm.” The mutant grunted again and the lady just laughed at him kindly.

“You are not a big talker are you Son?” She joked and walked over to some buckets.

“We should go.” Jaskier smiled faintly at Geralt who without a word lead the mare back to the stall and took the reins off her head. The brunet watched as the silver haired man whispered something to the horse before locked the door and they left the stable.

Jaskier said goodbyes to the staff members and went to the office to sign the papers as they were leaving. They needed them for the health and safety protocol as the elderly man behind the counter kindly explained and waved when the brunet left the building. Geralt was waiting by the car pacing up and down with the keys gripped so tightly in his fist the metal bit into his palm.

What the fuck was he thinking? Jaskier was still mortal and maybe he would never be anything else than that. He couldn’t let this happen again. Spending some time with Jaskier while Geralt repressed his feelings that is what he was planned on doing. And here he was acting like a bloody twit.

“Alright all done.” Jaskier jogged a few steps as he came through the gate and grinned at the witcher. “You liked it? We don’t have to come back here if you don’t want to I just said that because I wanted to be polite. O-or you can come back alone if… if you want to, it’s alright I just…”

“Thank you.” Geralt saved him before the brunet would end up in a never ending loop of ridiculous talking. “I want to come back.” The witcher said and maybe Jaskier was just dreaming but it seemed like the silver haired man had a smile on his face.

“G-good. Great. I’m glad that-that you liked it. Yes. Uhm. S-shall we go?”

“Hm.”

They both sat in the car and Geralt started the engine while Jaskier fastened his seatbelt.

“Hey Geralt?” Jaskier looked at the witcher who put the gear in reverse and drove away from the parking area. “Can you tell when someone is nervous?” Asked the brunet and Geralt just peeked at him from the corner of his eye before he looked back on the road.

“Yes.”

“A-and how does that smell like?” Jaskier asked again as he chewed on his bottom lip and witnessed a rare smirk growing on Geralt lips.

“Like you now.”

“Y-you utter arse! Stop the car I’m walking home!”

“No you’re not.”

“You are creepy I hope you know that.”

“Keeps me awake at night.”

“I hate you.”

“I know. I can smell it.”

“Crack the windows open now! All of them!”

“Sure.” Geralt grinned and did as Jaskier demanded. They were silent for a few minutes before the brunet opened his pouting lips again.

“Y-you know I think it’s a little bit hot that you can smell emotions.”

“I know. I can smell that on you as well.”

“OHMYGOD STOP THE CAR!” Jaskier shouted but Geralt’s full body laugh was such a rare and stunning sight he couldn’t help but join him. They were ridiculous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If y'all thought it will be so easy to make these 2 confess then I have some bad news for y'all!
> 
> It is gonna be a sloooooow burn, I hope you guys don't mind ^^
> 
> If you wanna chat leave a comment down below or come and find me on twitter.
> 
> @doberainbow
> 
> PS: Thank you again @LadyAhiru without you I'm nothing just a struggling foreign potato!


	10. Someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier go to the cinema together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks, 
> 
> New chapter here fixed by the beautiful @LadyAhiru <3
> 
> Sorry for the "late" update but I had a rough week :)
> 
> I hope y'all are great!

“Alright let me get this straight. He took you to play with horses.” Yennefer said slowly pointing at Geralt with her fork and the witcher just nodded. “Because he knows that you miss Roach.”

“Hm.” Came a grunt from the mutant and the sorceress dropped her fork on the plate with a loud clang as she buried her face in her palms.

“Please tell me at least you kissed that idiot.” Yen groaned and Geralt pursed his lips together. “What the bloody hell are you waiting for?” The woman looked at him with angry violet eyes and the mutant just frowned.

“He is still mortal.”

“So you are telling me that you are not going to act on your feelings as long as he is human?” Yennefer narrowed her eyes at him and Geralt just nodded his head shortly. “Well thanks fuck for that. It doesn’t put any pressure on me at all.”

“I can’t risk it Yen.” Geralt snarled at her but the woman just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “I would rather not know how is it to have him, than be with Jaskier and watch him die again.”

“You sound like a badly written commercial. Seriously Geralt, it could take years, decades even until I find a solution. If there is one.” Yennefer voice was now softer and she sighed slowly.

“I can wait.” The witcher shrugged and averted his eyes from the mage.

“And you think Jaskier will wait as well?” Yen’s question hurt because that was the one Geralt couldn’t answer or didn’t even dare to think about.

“If not, then it doesn’t really matter.” As soon as Geralt said it out loud they both knew it was a lie but none of them commented on it. Yennefer kept poking her pasta and Geralt was just staring at the woman.

“How is the new case?” The mage changed the subject quickly with a sigh.

“Werewolves.” Geralt elaborated and Yen just scrunched her nose.

“You always end up fighting with something smelling like wet dogs.” The woman grinned and for once she was right. No matter what was Geralt hunting for he always went home reeking from whatever beast he had slayed that day. He never in his life met with a fairy or a rabid nymph. “When are you seeing him again?”

“Tonight. We are going to the cinema.” Geralt mumbled and Yennefer lilac eyes were again burning a hole into his skull.

“Oh so I’m asking you to come and watch a movie with me for over fifty years now and you said no every single time but if lover boy wants it you go immediately.” Yen ranted but there was no bite behind her words and her anger was nothing but a show.

“He is nicer.” The mutant just shrugged and the mage huffed at him.

“So you two are officially dating?”

“No.” Geralt frowned at her and Yennefer knitted her eyebrows together.

“Then what are you two doing exactly?” She asked again and the silver haired man just glared at the salt and pepper shakers between them. Well the mutant didn’t know. Enjoying each others company? Was it necessary to label it?

“I don’t know Yen.” Geralt said and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed quickly.

“Come on, talk to me Darling.” The mage whispered and reached over the table to hold the witcher’s pale hands.

“I don’t know what to say Yen. I want to spend all my waking hours with him and just remember. Remember everything he is. What he does. What he sounds like. Every time I look at him I think this is it, this will be the last time I see him like that and…”

“Geralt it’s not going to be like that again and you know that.” Yennefer interrupted softly and the witcher wanted to just believe her. He wanted to just say ‘You are right Yen, it will be different this time’ but he couldn’t. It had happened once already. Without a warning there had been _his_ bard with a sword coming out of his chest and Geralt saw it over and over again every time he closed his eyes.

“Please just-just find a way to save him this time.” The mutant whispered and his voice was so broken the mage’s heart shattered inside her chest.

“Eat your pasta before it gets cold.” Yennefer said as she cleared her throat and pulled back her shoulders and lifted her chin. “We need to figure it out what are you going to wear for you date anyway."

“It doesn’t matter.” Geralt muttered and the mage just lifted her eyebrows at that.

“True. Jaskier would have you in anything or nothing but it will make you feel better to get all dolled up.” Yen’s grin widened to become rather vicious and the mutant just scowled at his friend with pursed lips and an angry pout. “Just saying. You have great legs, they would look great in tights.” The woman teased and Geralt just stood up and threw his leftovers in the rubbish bin. “Did he found a new job yet?” Yennefer asked as Geralt walked back to the table and sat down.

“No. He said he doesn’t want to go back to bartending but he never did anything else.”

“He never went to university?” Yen tilted her head with a confused look and the mutant shook his head.

“Too expensive.” Geralt grunted and Yen just made a grimace at that and leaned against the back of her chair.

“Well that wouldn’t be a problem for us.” Yennefer smiled proudly with an arched eyebrow and the witcher just glared at the woman.

“What are you implying Yen?”

“Well, if he still wants to go to study I could help with that.” The sorceress shrugged and took a sip from her red wine. It was one in the afternoon, she shouldn’t drink wine at this time but Geralt had no room to judge her.

“You mean cheat? The admissions are already over.” Geralt, the voice of reason, pointed it out and the mage just gave him a flat and unimpressed look.

“You do know who you are talking to right?” Yennefer pointed at herself and the mutant just sighed. “All I’m saying is that I could easily get him into any school. If he wants to go of course. It wouldn’t be a problem.”

“You would do that for him?”

“Geralt it would literally take me five minutes to make his name appear in any system. Ask him tonight and I will do it.” The silver haired man only nodded as Yennefer finished her drink and rubbed her palms together eyeing Geralt baggy clothes with a feral grin. “Do you still have those leather trousers you used to wear?”

“Absolutely not.” Geralt hissed through his teeth and Yen’s grin became impossibly wide.

“Fuck.” Geralt could barely bend his knees in these jeans. They were not leather trousers but the mutant felt like it was vacuum sealed onto his legs. What the hell had he been thinking when he let Yennefer tell him what to wear. Again. He didn’t want to try and ‘get a piece of that bardling arse’ he just wanted to be comfortable around Jaskier. Yet here he was trying to shift between the pedals as he drove and winced each time the material tightened around his thighs. This was bloody ridiculous.

Geralt parked his car not far away from the cinema which was located in a shopping mall. If there was any place the witcher despised well it was a plaza. The crowd, the noises, the neon, the teenagers. It was everything he hated in one big building. He hated that there were no windows inside and everything just smelled like people. He hated that at every corner someone tried to feed him with something made of corn syrup or bully him until he bought two hundred fish shaped soaps.

The Witcher has never been to the cinema. He could count it on his two hands how many movies he had seen in his whole, never ending, life and all of them had been because Yennefer had forced him to sat down and watch them. Geralt preferred books, where nobody told you how the scenes and characters looked like and no one forced their vision down on your throat. It was all up to you how to create the world you were reading about. Movies were books for lazy people.

The witcher walked over to the main entrance and waited, he was ten minutes early and there was nothing on this Earth that would make him go inside alone. Geralt leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and he closed his eyes. He could still feel how everyone glared at him and could hear the whispers.

_“Look at him... Dangerous…What’s wrong with his hair… Awful… He would be so much more… It’s a shame… No, you go there”_

Humans had no shame talking and complaining about others in public. Of course they didn’t know Geralt could hear them but the witcher was sure that nothing would stop these people from judging each other publicly. It was something humans just did and Geralt would never understand why.

“I love how you just stand there and brood.” Jaskier’s jolly voice was so sudden and overwhelmingly familiar it slapped him in the face. Geralt opened his yellow eyes and there was the brunet in front of him grinning like he just won the lottery and the witcher was his juicy check. “I thought I will come earlier but of course you are already here.” The younger man sighed and walked over where the mutant was standing raising one eyebrow as his blue eyes roamed over Geralt’s body. “Are those trousers or did you just paint your legs black?” Jaskier asked as he snickered and bit into his bottom lip.

“Fucking Yennefer.” The mutant grunted and the brunet just threw his head back with a laugh.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am not complaining. Your legs are something else Geralt.” Jaskier chuckled and the witcher wanted to just dig a hole and hide in there forever.

“We should go in.” Geralt muttered and pushed himself away from the wall.

This was not good. Jaskier could already saw it from far away that the silver haired man was more than inappropriately fit in his clothes. Of course he had had the luck to see Geralt in nothing but a towel but it wasn’t truly fair how good the silver haired man looked in absolutely anything. His jeans were awfully tight. The material was hugging those strong legs like a second skin, like it was just airbrushed on Geralt and anybody else would have looked absolutely ridiculous like that. Not him of course. Jaskier felt like he was under attack. His heart was beating at double speed, his cheeks were probably flaming red and his mouth seemed to be constantly dry. Geralt just had that effect on people yet the witcher seemed to not quite understand why every single soul was staring at him so much.

One part of Jaskier, a pompous part of him enjoyed how everyone glared at him in jealously while he walked around with Geralt. It made his chest burst with pride and a load of arrogance. The other part of him, the possessive one just wanted to wrap the silver haired monster slayer in a fluffy blanket and hide him away somewhere from those nasty looks and kiss the top of his head and make him feel loved. It was all new to Jaskier. He thought he had been in love before. Many times. Each night that he had spent in someone’s arms he thought he had fallen in love and yet it was so easy to climb out of their beds when morning came and leave them behind. Now as he watched Geralt from the corner of his eye he knew that he would never be able to do that with this man. The witcher was the first person Jaskier wanted to watch as he woke up in the morning. The brunet wanted to be the first thing Geralt saw when he opened those golden eyes and that feeling scared him.

“So how is the witchering going?” Jaskier asked as they walked into the mall and the air condition hit his skin through his clothes. He hoped that the cold breeze would cool him down as well before he burst into flames next to Geralt.

“Werewolves are a handful.” The mutant mumbled still not too sure if he should talk about this in public or not but as soon as he saw Jaskier’s eyes widen and mouth slightly agape he truly didn’t give a fuck a bout rule.

“Actual werewolves like in the movies? Fangs and howling and full moon and all that?”

“Hm.” Geralt nodded because honestly he had no idea how these creatures were portrayed in the modern media but the fangs and howling were accurate.

“What if they bite you? Can you turn? Is that a real thing?” Jaskier babbled and the witcher shook his head with a small smile.

“I can’t but humans can that’s why they are so many of them. Even here.”

“What do you mean even here?” Jaskier whispered and knit his eyebrows together in concern.

“Some creatures are more common than you would think.”

“How common?” The brunet spoke quietly and without even noticing he stepped closer to the witcher’s side. Geralt stopped and gently took Jaskier by his elbow and pulled him closer to his body to be able to speak directly into his ear.

“There is that couple sitting on that bench. The girl is a shifter, probably a harpy and I’m sure the guy has no idea about it. That old man over there by the ATM is a dökkálfar.” Geralt felt when Jaskier shivering as the brunet stared at the elderly man and the witcher could smell the panic rising in his scent.

“W-what is that?” Jaskier asked as he licked over his chapped lips and the mutant stepped away from him to be able to look at his blushed face.

“A type of dark elf. They are harmless.” Geralt spoke softly in his deep voice but he could still hear how fast Jaskier’s heart was beating. “I… I didn’t mean to scare you.” Mumbled the witcher as worry washed over his features and Jaskier quickly snapped out of his thoughts and looked up into those yellow eyes.

“Oh no, you didn’t.” He said with a fake grin and a second later grimaced. “You can tell when I’m lying right?”

“Hm.”

“Right. Good. Okay this scares me a little bit, knowing that I’m surrounded with supernatural beings but I…I’m uh after all with you yeah? Like-like no one in their right mind would try and-and eat me while I’m with you or I mean they can try but…” Jaskier’s jabbering trailed off as he stared at Geralt and the witcher had that toothy grin on his face and fucking hell, dimples.

“You’re safe.” The mutant said and as Jaskier’s scent turned into something heavier and sweeter the witcher’s mind started to become a mush inside his skull. Geralt stepped back and cleared his throat. Jaskier was not safe, especially with him but he was a too weak and selfish man to admit that.

_1254_

_“Geraaaalt my friend!” Jaskier kicked the door open with a very impressive high note and it could have been a teeny bit less annoying if it wouldn’t be the middle of the night and the bard wouldn’t reek of cheap alcohol. The witcher was already in bed when the poet stumbled through the entrance and closed it behind himself. “My dearest, grumpiest Witcher are you sleeping?” The brunet whispered with a chuckle and it wasn’t really a whisper more like a quiet squeak and it wasn’t really a chuckle, the bard was giggling from the doorway. He was absolutely wasted. Geralt sighed and sat up in the bed, glaring at the bard even though it was pitch-black and Jaskier couldn’t see the daggers in his yellow eyes._

_“You have your own room Jaskier.” The mutant snarled as the brunet started to shake off his boots and fell on his arse in the process. The thump was loud and Jaskier laughed at himself as he was lying on his back on the hardwood floor and stared at the ceiling._

_“I need your service Wolfman.” Jaskier grinned and Geralt got out of the bed with the intention of throwing the drunken musician out of his room and going back to bed but as he walked over to the table to light up a candle the poet pushed himself up into, sitting somewhat straight against the door. “I fell.” Jaskier looked at him with that lopsided smirk and lazily shrugged._

_“I saw that.”_

_“Oh yeah, witchery eyes and magical senses.” Nodded the brunet and wiggled his fingers towards the mutant like he just wanted to shoot sparkles out of his fingertips. “It’s not fair that you can do all that and I can’t do any of that.” Jaskier groaned and because it made very little sense Geralt chose to ignore it._

_“Why are you here?”_

_“Well because I came through the door.” The bard grinned with a seriously smug face and the mutant didn’t know if he wanted to bang his own or Jaskier’s head into the thick wall._

_“Get up bard!” Geralt snarled and walked over to the poet who didn’t even move a muscle just sat there and stared at the witcher with a foolish smile and glassy eyes._

_“You’re tall. Have I ever told you that? Like very tall, like a tree. A magnificent one. Like an oak or that one with the white flowers the-the magnolia tree.” Jaskier hummed and closed his eyes to see whatever he was daydreaming about. Geralt frowned. He had seen the poet being drunk many times, too many times and the brunet was usually just more obnoxious and loud or a wee bit more aggressive than his sober self, it depended on what he had been drinking, but Jaskier was never like this… calm before. Even his scent was steady and just soothing._

_“What were you drinking?” Geralt asked because he really wanted to know for the future to make sure whatever it was the bard would never drink it again._

_“Wine.” Jaskier grinned and the witcher heard his heart drumming rhythmically in his chest, he wasn’t lying._

_“What else?”_

_“Nothing we just... it was just wine and that smoke around us Geralt and I feel so… so free.” The bard giggled again and the mutant kneeled down between his legs to look at his face. Jaskier’s cheeks were flushed like always when he was drunk and he was frequently licking his lips as always but there was something else. His eyes seemed so vivid yet his pupils were blown wide like it was still complete darkness in the room._

_“What smoke?” Geralt asked and the poet just shrugged with one shoulder and threw his head back against the door. “Jaskier!” The mutant barked at him and reached to hold the troubadour’s jawline but as soon as his palm touched Jaskier’s skin Geralt knit his eyebrows together. The bard’s body was burning up. The brunet opened his eyes when he felt the touch and looked at the silver haired man with a fond smile._

_“Your skin is so cold.” He groaned and buried his cheeks further into Geralt’s palm._

_“Fuck.” Geralt grunted and moved his palm onto Jaskier’s forehead. It wasn’t fever, he didn’t smell sick, it was something else. “Get up!” He commanded and the bard just moaned loudly._

_“I caaaan’t Geralt. Help me!” The witcher pursed his lips together before he could say something he would regret and reached under Jaskier’s arms to lift him up onto his wobbly legs but the bard had a better idea and wrapped his arms around Geralt’s neck and let his legs just dangle in the air. “See, like a tree.” The poet laughed directly in his ear and the witcher’s whole body shivered. Jaskier always smelled good to him, his scent was flowery and sweet and earthy at the same time, he liked it, but having the brunet’s scent hug around him like this with his warm breath on his bare neck was absolutely unbearable. Geralt turned on his heels with Jaskier still hanging off of his neck like a giggling scarf and he stormed over to the bed where he unceremoniously peeled those arms away and dropped the bard. Jaskier landed with a small groan and immediately fell into the covers._

_“You can’t sleep like this.” Geralt grumbled and gently kicked on of the poet’s ankle which was still covered in the thick leather of his boots._

_“I don’t want to sleep Geralt I want to be awake as long as it last.” The poet grinned at him and pushed himself up on his elbows. The witcher only seemed to realise now how intimate their position was. He was standing between Jaskier’s widely opened thighs and the poet was looking up at him with those dark eyes. Geralt had to swallow. “Come and lay with me.” The bard whispered and the mutant’s yellow eyes widened in shock as the poet grabbed one of his wrist and yanked him down onto the bed. Geralt’s reflexes were fast enough to not fall on the laughing troubadour and he supported his body with his arms placed next to Jaskier’s head._

_“The fuck are you doing?” He jerked back just as fast as he fell and glared at the grinning poet._

_“Stop being such a sourpuss Geralt!” Jaskier whined and let his head fell against the bed. Geralt was lost. He wanted to leave this room as soon as possible and wash of the brunet’s scent and yet he couldn’t move a single muscle in his body. Of course the bard was a flirt, he was a peacock and a goddamned flamboyant lark, always teasing and smirking. Even with Geralt but now, as the Witcher looked down at the poet who was splayed on the bed like some sacrifice the mutant couldn’t fucking take his eyes off of him. He knew that Jaskier was charming and he was considered as handsome and good-looking but Geralt never really took the time to actually study him. How could he… for all those years not see how long and pale Jaskier’s neck was. How his collarbone was sharp and his chemise was always unbuttoned. How his brown hair curled around his ears and how long and dark his eyelashes were._

_“Why did you come here?” Geralt asked and it even surprised himself how deep and throaty his voice was. Jaskier slowly lifted his half-lidded impossibly blue eyes at the witcher and grinned so fondly it created goose bumps all over Geralt’s body._

_“I wanted to be safe.” Jaskier spoke so gently Geralt could feel it like a ghostly caress over his skin. “I’m always safe with you my White Wolf.”_

_Geralt remembered how he just stood there completely unable to move or speak as Jaskier fell asleep quickly like he was hit by a spell. Geralt remembered how he just stared at the other’s rising and falling chest for gods knows how long. Geralt also remembered how that that was the moment when he understood and accepted that he would never look at Jaskier like he did before._

“Geralt?” The brunet’s voice chased away the vivid memory and the witcher found himself standing in the mall with Jaskier’s large eyes staring at him with worry. “Are you alright, you disappeared there for a moment.” The younger man joked but the mutant could clearly hear the concern in his tone.

“Hm.” Geralt nodded and for a few second Jaskier studied his face then stepped away and smiled.

“We should go buy the tickets.”

The mutant followed Jaskier without a word and the silence was clearly bothering the brunet, Geralt could smell it on him. The witcher was having these flashbacks way too often but Jaskier was too polite to comment on them. Even Geralt who was socially incompetent could feel it how rude it was to just space out in the middle of their not-date. They slowly walked to the escalator but just before they could step on the stairs the witcher had a better idea. Well it wasn’t better. It wasn’t a good idea at all but he panicked and he heard Yennefer’s cold voice in his head ‘Don’t fuck this up. Talk to him’. So Geralt got a hold on Jaskier’s left hand and pulled him towards the lifts.

“Geralt what…” Jaskier asked as the mutant pulled him away and the witcher pressed the call buttons on the panel way too many time before the metal door opened and Geralt stepped inside the lift with the gaping brunet.

“Take the next one.” Geralt turned around and hissed at the two young lads who tried to take the same lift as them but quickly backed out as they were faced with the snarling witcher.

“A’ight sorry mate, no worries.” Mumbled one of them as they hastily stepped away and the heavy doors finally closed. As soon as the steel ropes started to move Geralt exhaled slowly and pressed the stop button. The lift shook as it froze between two floors and the witcher turned to face Jaskier who was still utterly startled and just blinked at the silver haired man.

“Geralt what are-”

“You remind me of someone I used to love.” The words were out of Geralt’s mouth so fast he only realised he actually said that out loud when he heard Jaskier’s breathe hitch in his throat. The elevator car was operating like a megaphone right now. Every raggedy breath and rush of blood was echoing between the chrome walls and it was deafening for the mutant. Jaskier’s heartbeat was so loud Geralt could feel it in his own chest.

“T-the one who died in your arms?” The brunet asked with trembling lips and Geralt swiftly nodded. The voice that came out of Jaskier’s mouth was more than a wail and it made the mutant’s heart ache. It was the sound someone made when they gave up. When someone understood that they couldn’t win and there was no point in continuing to fight. Geralt hated this sound.

“I… sometimes see him when I’m with you. I can’t control it, the memories just appear without a warning and… fuck sometimes they are good but…”

“You don’t have to talk about this.” Jaskier interrupted with a soft voice and the witcher shook his head. He had to because the brunet smelled so pained and desperate it was physically unbearable.

“No. You deserve to know.” He pushed and the brunet waited mutely for him to continue. “I enjoy being with you and not because of _him._ I… don’t want you to think I’m here because of _him._ First it was because you remind me of _him_ so much. I just wanted to… be near _him_ through you but not anymore. I’m here because of you. I still see _him_ sometimes when I look at you and I can´t change that but I want to see you Jaskier. I want to be here even if it’s seems like I’m not and even-even if sometimes I… I fuck I…”

“It’s okay.” Jaskier whispered when he was just a stuttering mess and Geralt opened his eyes. He didn’t even know he had closed them. The brunet’s eyes were literally gleaming as he smiled at him. He was so easily letting his emotions show on his face and in his eyes. Geralt envied him for that. He wished to be as honestly happy as Jaskier was in that second. “You can tell me everything when you are ready but don’t force yourself.” The brunet’s voice was silky and understanding and fuck Geralt really didn’t deserve him.

“I will… I… alright.” Geralt grumbled and silently cursed every god and goddess who made him so fucking socially awkward.

“You really did love him, huh?” Jaskier asked with a cheeky smile and bumped the witcher’s shoulder with his own when he saw the frustrated frown on the mutant’s face.

“I did. I still do.” Geralt rasped and for a second it seemed that the brunet’s smile would disappear but his grin just became bigger. It wasn’t as convincing as he thought it was. “Fuck. Jaskier.” Geralt spoke before the other could try and joke about something else. “I still love _him._ I will always do but it doesn’t mean that I won’t or I can’t love someone else. I just… I need time.”

As soon as he forced himself to say how he felt the weights were lifted off of his body. In that holy second Geralt actually believed that he would be capable of loving someone else again and as he looked down at Jaskier he hoped that the brunet would believe in him as well. The blue eyed man just stood there and watched Geralt with a fond smile before taking one step back and nodded.

“Time? Sure. That-that is all you have after all you are immortal and, uhm, sure. Yeah. I, uhm I hope you will d-do that one day. Love. I mean. Love someone one day. You absolutely deserve that. Hundred percent.”

Bloody hell. Jaskier knew he sounded like an absolute twit but he couldn’t help it. He was cornered. He had planned and prepared for a smooth, easy movie date not a fucking love confession in a lift. He had no response. His brain was fried and he was sure there was smoke coming out of his ears. Did Geralt truly hate him that much he decided to murder him like this at a shopping mall? Because he fucking felt like he had taken a bullet into his heart.

“Someone. Hm.” Geralt mumbled in that rough voice of his with the smallest smile on his handsome face and Jaskier wanted to scream from the top of his lungs. Thank the gods the witcher pressed the stop button again and the lift continued its journey to the first floor. Jaskier wanted to get some air. He wanted to force the doors open and run. He needed air yet he wanted to press that damn red button again and never leave this metal box.

“That someone maybe…” Jaskier’s sentence was cut in half with a jolly ding as the door opened up and there was a group of teenage girls chatting and waiting for them to get out on the other side. “N-never mind.” The brunet stuttered and pushed the youngsters away to get out of the lift as fast as possible with Geralt closely walking behind him. He had to say something. Jaskier always had to say something and now he wanted to say too many things at once but had no idea how to start.

“Fuck it.” Jaskier was not good at filtering his thoughts and when he wanted to talk he would speak his mind even if it meant that he would look like an idiot. He spun around on his heels and stopped completely in front of the witcher who nearly walked into him with a concerned look. “I think that someone should be me.” Geralt’s golden eyes were now large as saucers and Jaskier reminded himself to cringe about this later. “W-what I’m trying to say is that I like you Geralt and I hope that one day that _someone_ is going to be me. I’m not saying that you should totally fall in love with me but I would appreciate it. Like you know it-it would be nice if you would be so kind and just do that. When you are ready. If not, which would be a shame because I’m a catch but I would understand it. Anyway. J-just let me know when that happens. The big eye-opening experience about that _someone._ Even if I’m not around then. Just text me or something. Or not. Text me if it’s me. Alright. There. Huh. C-can we pretend this never happened and just go and watch a movie? Please?”

Jaskier probably never sounded more chaotic in his life but Geralt didn’t care. Hearing those rushed, hesitant words coming out of the brunet’s mouth just made him grin like an idiot.

“Sure. I will text you.” The witcher said and it seemed like Jaskier’s body just now was catching up with the situation as his face and neck flushed into a deep crimson colour.

“Cheers.” Jaskier mumbled and as he looked at mutant he couldn’t help the laugh bubbling out of his chest. “Gods that was terrible. I can’t believe just I said that.”

“You would appreciate it if I would fall in love with you?” Geralt asked with arched silver eyebrows and a shit-eating grin and the brunet groaned loudly.

“Piss off. You caught me off guard with that whole lift scenario. What was that anyway? You trying to kill me?” Jaskier grumbled but he still had that silly grin on his face as they walked together towards the cinema. “You can’t say things like that, while you are looking like _that_ and expect me to not react like an absolute arse.”

“Looking like _that_?”

“Oh you bloody well know what I’m talking about.” Jaskier narrowed his eyes as he hissed at him and Geralt’s soft chuckle was messing around with him even more. “It’s not going to be easy huh? This. Whatever this is. We are fucking idiots.” The brunet sighed with a grin and slowly shook his head as he gestured at the air between the two of them.

“I’m a witcher, what’s your excuse?” Geralt asked with a smirk and the baffled look on Jaskier’s face was priceless.

“I don’t think I appreciate your sassiness Geralt.”

“So you would appreciate my love but I can’t talk back?”

“Oh my gods, fuck off will you please yeah?” Jaskier cackled so vehemently for a second everyone was staring at them. “I’m never telling you anything. Ever. I will communicate like you from now on. Only with eyebrows, grunts and with that twitch in your jaw. That’s it. We will see how you will like that.”

“Hm.” Geralt grunted with a smile and Jaskier threw his arms in the air rather dramatically.

“You are the worst. I hate you. Seriously. Don’t you dare fall in love with me Geralt.”

“Hm.” The witcher nodded.

“I know it will be hard to resist all of this.” Jaskier said and looked all over his own body and he lifted his chin up as he glared teasingly at the mutant. “But please try to hold your horses. You played yourself and you missed your chance. This ship has already sailed.”

“Tragic.” Geralt childishly pouted for a second and Jaskier’s lips were in a small O shape from disbelief. The brunet had no more witty comebacks, he had run out of sarcasm and jokes. He was floored. He just stood there and stared at the mutant and was left speechless.

Fuck. Jaskier couldn’t let this be the moment when he fell in love with Geralt and still… the way the witcher grinned and his sharp canines flashed the brunet’s heart dropped into his stomach.

Shit. He hopelessly and undoubtedly fell for Geralt like the absolute fool he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well you know the drill, 
> 
> leave a comment or just come and talk to me on twitter if you wanna!
> 
> Have a lovely weekend, take care, stay safe and don't be good >:)
> 
> @doberainbow
> 
> Cheers!


	11. Wasteland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone, 
> 
> new chapter here again!
> 
> I'm so grateful for the lovely @LadyAhiru for alphabetaomega-ing my chapters and fixing my terrible grammar!
> 
> English is not easy folks :"D

Geralt could hardly remember anything from the movie. As soon as they had sat down in their seats and Jaskier had started to talk about the commercials and trailers they were showing on the screen the witcher’s focus was pointed at the brunet next to him and he was not acknowledging anything else around himself. Jaskier’s eyes had been shining when the movie began and the lights had went off. His skin looked paler than usual and he had an excited smile on his face. Geralt didn’t even try to pay attention to whatever was playing on the huge movie screen.

He heard the dialogues and saw the flashing lights on Jaskier’s face but he didn’t care enough to turn his head and watch it. The whole room smelled like butter and salt but Jaskier’s scent managed to overpower all of that. He sometimes whispered something to Geralt, just comments about characters and scenes and when he did that he always leaned closer to the witcher. His round blue eyes were still glued to the screen but the distance between them was so small Geralt could see every single individual eyelash and the darker dots in Jaskier’s irises. If the mutant would be stuck like this for the next five thousand years, just studying the brunet’s face with the colourful lights caressing his skin, Geralt would be the happiest man on this planet. He wanted to remember this moment forever and in his case it really meant forever.

When he had first met Jaskier a few weeks ago he thought all of his memories about _his_ bard were vivid enough. He thought he could recall how his voice sounded when it went higher if he got offended by some drunken villagers. He thought he knew how his hair looked when it was shining in the sun and looked rather blond from the perfect angle. Geralt thought when he closed his eyes and saw the poet it was how he truly looked like. Oh, how wrong he was.

The hundreds of years had faded the images in his head. Jaskier was so much more than what he remembered. He was so much more vibrant and overwhelming. Geralt felt like he had too much on his plate and he was already full but he didn’t want to stop eating because it tasted too good. Jaskier was playing with all of his senses. He was so extraordinary the witcher sometimes wondered how he didn’t see it for so long.

Geralt felt guilty for trying to get rid of the young troubadour for so many times he had lost count. It took him months to get used to the bardling following him around and years to appreciate his friendship. It was eight hundred years ago and he winced each time he thought about how hurt _his_ bard looked each time when the mutant sent him away. How bitter his scent became in mere seconds when Geralt had snarled at him and told him to leave. He would change everything if he could. It kept him awake at night and it made his stomach turn. He swore that it would not happen again.

“This was absolutely brilliant. The songs were just so amazingly written and don’t let me start on the lyrics Geralt because I won’t stop. How can someone put those feelings into words we don’t even realise we have?” Jaskier’s ranting was going on for over ten minutes since they had left the cinema. In the meantime the witcher learned that they had in fact watched a musical. Somehow that information had avoided Geralt’s brain. “I just want to scream and confess my undying love in the heavy rain after this movie.” The brunet sighed and the witcher let the corner of his lips to turn upwards. Just a tiny bit.

“Well I hate to disappoint but…” Geralt mumbled and looked up to the clear sunny sky. Jaskier snickered and gently bumped his shoulder into the witcher’s arm as they walked. “I wanted to ask you something.” The mutant said in a raspy voice after a while and the brunet just tilted his head to the side with a grin.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on one knee to do that Geralt? Or do witchers have other traditions?” Jaskier asked in a mocking tone and the silver haired man just rolled his eyes with a breathy snort.

“Witchers don’t get married. Sorry to disappoint.” Geralt rumbled and Jaskier placed his palm over his heart with an offended glare.

“And here you are leading me on. Shame on you.” The brunet knit his eyebrows together and pouted at Geralt.

“And I thought I could fool you.” He deadpanned and Jaskier just grinned at him.

“What did you want to ask?”

“If you could go to a university which one would you chose?” Geralt croaked it out and Jaskier just blinked at him with a surprised face. He wasn’t expecting that question at all.

“Well. The one in Wyzima is the closest. I’ve been in the city a few times and I liked it but if I could go anywhere it would be the one in Cidaris. I know it’s a five hours drive from here but it’s on the coast and they have this Music History professor I really admire and I-I never been at the coast before. We planned with Essi but…” Jaskier’s voice drifted off and they stopped walking. The people in the donut shop they were standing in front of were all staring at them and Geralt shoot a glare at the humans. “A-anyway why did you ask? Planning to go to uni? Are you tired of the witchering?”

“Hm. After eight hundred years I decided to have a degree.” The witcher mumbled and Jaskier just patted him on his back with a small ‘Well it’s never too late’.

“If I could go and study in Cidaris I would pack my stuff tonight and travel there first thing in the morning.” Jaskier wondered out loud a few moments later. “It’s really exhausting to be poor.”

“Money used to be different.” Geralt said in a bitter tone and the brunet waited silently for him to continue. “When I had nothing I just slept outside. I hunted to eat. I built a fire when I was cold. I didn’t need coin to survive it just made it easier. More… luxurious. Now you need money to live. To just exist.”

“Do you miss it? When life was much more simple?” Jaskier blinked at him and Geralt lifted his yellow eyes up to look at one small white cloud which was still stubbornly fighting against the heat coming from the Sun.

“I miss some things.” The witcher shrugged and he inhaled slowly when Jaskier just raised his brown eyebrows with so much anticipation the mutant forced himself to use his words. “People were easier to understand and not because of the lack of education.” Geralt explained and made a grimace what Jaskier acknowledged with a snort. “They were driven by more basic emotions. Lust, hunger, revenge, jealousy. People were not better back then but they never tried to be something else. Now everyone pretends. Everyone have ulterior motives. People become shallow and overcomplicated.” The witcher explained and when he looked at the brunet he saw the awe on his young face as they walked and Jaskier didn’t even take his eyes off of him.

“I love how you describe things. You make it seem so black and white.” Jaskier said with a soft smile and Geralt averted his eyes back on the pavement.

“Well you have all the other colours so…” The mutant shrugged and the younger man just laughed so freely and aloud a few pigeons flew away immediately from the nearby trees.

“You mister White Wolf are an absolute flirt. You don’t even notice do you when you say things like that? You are just all shrugs and grunts and then you say something like that so casually and it makes my heart explode.” Jaskier giggled and Geralt was sure his face was as red as a freshly painted fire truck before he turned away from the other. “Are they teaching you to be this damn smooth and charming in the witchering school?” The brunet teased even more and the mutant pursed his lips together.

“Not exactly.” He whispered through his teeth and Jaskier just snickered.

“I see. So it’s just you being natural at it.” He hummed and gave Geralt some time to fix his face and looked away from the monster hunter. “We already did a few things from your bucket list you know.” Jaskier said as he reached for his back pocket and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It was that take away food menu where he scribbled down his drunken nonsenses a few weeks ago.

Geralt’s eyebrows run up on his forehead as he watched the other read through the messy list. He couldn’t believe Jaskier kept that thing and actually brought it with him to tick ‘go to the cinema’ off the list. “What do you say, we eat some waffles, go see the penguins in the local Zoo or I’m not sure what’s written here but I think it says rollerblading?” Jaskier asked as he narrowed his eyes and tried to read his own drunken handwriting.

“You know I’m going to just ignore the last one oh wait there is one what says ‘Make Wolfy’ I guess that is you my Dear, ‘Make Wolfy tell monster stories’. Well since I did not elaborated how I should _make you_ do that I guess I’m going to ignore that too.” Jaskier murmured under his breath and Geralt felt like he should be outraged by that foolish name but he smiled as the brunet kept mumbling to himself.

“I kept some of my old belongings… I guess they count as witcher relics now. If-if that is something you want to see?” The mutant asked in a hesitant tone and immediately he could hear Jaskier’s heart beat at double speed as he turned his head so fast to stare at the silver haired man his neck gave out a loud pop.

“I would love to. Can I? I mean you offered but maybe you just wanted to be polite so if-if you don’t want to show them to me or… or they bring back some awful memories then I-”

“It’s fine.”

“Oh gods, is it going to be like a witcher museum?” Jaskier asked eagerly and Geralt just shrugged.

“If boxes filled with dusty clothes and books count as a museum then yes.”

“Sarcastic. Okay. I see. Alright. I like that.” The brunet nodded delightedly with a smirk as they walked towards the mutant’s car.

The drive back to Geralt’ house was filled with Jaskier’s chattering about movies and whatnot. He was listing films the witcher needed to see if he wanted to have a _normal_ life. Geralt didn’t mean to be rude and burst his bubble and tell Jaskier that he never was and never would be normal, so he just nodded while the brunet was filling up the car with words.

“So do you have like a secret tunnel to the underground base or do they pick you up in the middle of the night with a helicopter when you have a new case?” Jaskier asked as they climbed out of the black car and wiggled his eyebrows with a grin.

“They send a mage to teleport me there.” Geralt mumbled and the brunet’s mouth turned into an amazed o shape.

“Really?”

“No.” Geralt deadpanned and hid his grin when Jaskier’s surprised face turned into a scowl. “I drive everywhere.” The witcher said as he unlocked his front door and let the brunet walk into his house first.

“Well your place is just as welcoming as ever.” Jaskier sighed and looked at the mutant like an unimpressed teacher after someone handed in a rubbish essay. “Honestly Geralt, no wonder you are always so grouchy if you live in a hospital room.”

“Hm. I thought my mutation and endless suffering was responsible for my _grouchiness._ ” The witcher wondered out loud and caught that tiny tug on Jaskier’s lip that the brunet tried to hide really hard and put a serious face on.

“Well anyway. I will buy you something. A cactus maybe to match your dazzling personality.” The brunet mocked him with a glare and Geralt couldn’t help to stop the spreading of warmth in his chest.

“And all this time I thought I’m a rose person.” The witcher groaned theatrically and walked towards the door for the basement.

“Seriously Geralt did you eat sarcasm for breakfast?” Jaskier marched after him with his arms crossed over his chest and the mutant just looked over his shoulder and flashed a toothy grin.

“I sprinkled it on the top of my bowl of rocks.” The brunet’s mouth fell agape and Geralt heard that small hiccup in Jaskier’s heartbeat as he opened the door and turned the lights on in the basement. The stairs were dusty and it was tickling his nose as he walked down a few steps and breathed in. The wood was creaking under his weight as he stepped on the planks and looked over to see Jaskier who was still standing in the doorway.

He was startled as soon as he saw Geralt’s pointy canines show in a wide smirk and the witcher had no fucking right to be this adorable and unbearably attractive at the same time. He snapped out of his utterly shameful thoughts when Geralt turned around and looked at him with an arched white eyebrow.

“Sorry.” Jaskier smiled sheepishly and walked down the stairs. The unmistakable smell of a basement hit his senses as soon as he reached the step were the witcher had stood just a moment ago and his whole body froze in mid-step.

The room was packed. There were cardboard boxes and huge plastic containers until the ceiling. There were wooden boxes and even a chest which seemed like to be filled with treasures judging by the impressive carvings on the top. It looked like Geralt moved everything from his living space down here and as Jaskier looked around, it was probably the truth.

“What is all this? Are you secretly a hoarder?” Jaskier asked and run down the remaining steps staring at the endless towers of boxes. Geralt stood next to him and his jaw tightly clenched before he spoke.

“Gifts from Yennefer. She is buying me… stuff for the house.” The mutant rumbled and Jaskier was absolutely speechless.

“S-stuff?” He asked back and Geralt dismissively shook his head. These are not just stuff. Jaskier was sure just half of these were worth more than his whole studio flat, fuck, even the whole building he lived in. He was fidgeting. He wanted to launch himself and go through every box. It was like going to an antic market. He had to see everything. Touch them. Read them. Smell them. Jaskier turned to the witcher and he didn’t even have to ask anything.

“Just go ahead.” Geralt sighed and the brunet immediately grabbed the first box he could reach.

“Oh thank the gods. Geralt this is madness. I love it. I’m moving in. Can I live in your basement?” He didn’t even look up as he opened the first box and the witcher only heard a muffled scream coming from the other. “Geralt!” He never heard his name in such a high pitch before as Jaskier turned over with wide eyes and with his bottom lip between his teeth. He looked like someone who would have a heart attack at any given second. The smell of old books and real leather lingered in the air as the brunet went elbow deep in the box. “These books must be worth millions. I can’t-oh fuck, look at this. It’s covered in golden-oh Geralt. It has hand painted pictures in it. Geralt I-”

Jaskier’s blather was occasionally disturbed with moans and screams as he systematically went through the towers. The sides of his tight red trousers were getting darker from him wiping his dusty hands into the material. Geralt had a lazy smile on his lips as he watched the brunet pull out paintings from behind a plastic container. All these things were given by Yennefer throughout the centuries when the mage still hoped that she could change the witcher.

He remembered most of them. Yen always showed up with a new set of books or a new cloak with feathers on it or with a designer bag each time she visited him and they had all ended up in here. The wasteland of fashion and art. Geralt found it difficult to get attached to objects. He barely had anything down here, he planned to keep. Some of his old swords, scrolls and maps. Notes from Kaer Morhen. His old armours and witcher medallion. It seemed sentimental and foolish but he kept a lock of hair from every horse he had ever had.

And then there were _those_ boxes. Geralt didn’t know which one they are. Yennefer was the one who had packed and sealed them. She didn’t write on them or mark them in any way. He couldn’t even look at them. He never had the courage to open any of those boxes and see what the mage saved for him. Once Yennefer had asked about them. It had happened nearly two hundred years ago. The sorceress helped him move from a different city and asked if he ever wondered what she saved for him from _his_ bard. Geralt had just shook his head and croaked out two words _. Too soon._

He wasn’t ready back then and he didn’t feel any stronger now either, but as he watched Jaskier grin each time he found something entirely worthless yet acted like it was made out of gold and covered in diamonds, Geralt couldn’t ask him to stop. He had offered this anyway. So he just stepped back and let the brunet open up these forgotten memories like a photo album of the past.

“Holy-” Jaskier choked out a gasp and just stood there slightly covered in cobwebs with his mouth slack-jawed. His flowery scent went haywire. “Is this what I think it is?” He spun on his heels to face the mutant who just sat on the last few steps of the staircase.

“If it’s that famous painting then yes. The one in the museum is a fake. I don’t know how Yen did it.” He mumbled with a long sigh and looked up to see Jaskier’s puzzled face.

“What? No. What painting? Never mind. I meant this.” Jaskier shook his head as his thoughts wandered off the track and pointed at what was inside the box. It was hidden inside the cardboard and Geralt couldn’t see it from where he sat so he stood up and walked over to where Jaskier was standing. As soon as he leaned over the box he could feel his blood stuck to the side of his veins paralysing his whole body instantly.

He knew that case. He knew it but he never thought he would ever see it again. It had been destroyed. It broke into pieces when they had gotten ambushed and _his_ bard had… Fucking Yennefer.

“It’s a lute.” Jaskier whispered and Geralt was grateful for how his rich blue eyes were fixated on the case in the box because the mutant was sure he had a horrid look on his face and he didn’t wanted the brunet to see him like that. “C-can I open it?”

The young man asked hesitantly and glanced at the witcher standing next to him. The silver haired man looked like he was nauseous, like someone who would stumble over, drop to his knees and retch. And then it hit him. “Oh fuck, I’m sorry. Let me just-” Stupidstupidstupid. Jaskier’s brain switched into panic mode and he immediately reached to close the box and make it disappear before Geralt kicked him out of his house and life, but he couldn’t.

There were long strong fingers wrapping around his wrist gently stopping him completely. He didn’t dare to look at Geralt. He just stared at that pale hand. The witcher’s skin was so light Jaskier could see the blue veins running under the surface. It shouldn’t been as mesmerizing as it was but he had to admit, everything Geralt did or had is truly magnificent.

“I want to-” Geralt said under his breath and pulled back his hand. “I want to see it too.” He murmured with more strength and Jaskier now actually did look at him.

“You don’t have to. Not for me. I can just close it and we can go back up and…” He rambled without even knowing what he wanted to say. All Jaskier knew was that he wanted Geralt to stop looking like someone who was tortured by memories.

“I want to.” The witcher repeated it with more willpower and Jaskier shut his mouth before he started to argue again. He breathed in and opened the case in the box. Nowadays no one made instruments like that anymore and as soon as he laid eyes upon the lute he felt his heart jump in his throat. It was breath-taking. The cravings, the shape, the craftsmanship was truly majestic.

“It’s so... I-” Jaskier couldn’t put together an intelligible sentence. He was gaping like he was fighting for air and looking for words to describe something inexplicable.

“It’s elven made. Jas… _he_ got it on our first adventure.” Geralt said in a low voice. It wasn’t much of a sound but more like a deep thunder. “His previous lute got broken. We got beaten up and nearly killed. This-this lute was a gift from the leader of the Free Elves after they let us go.” Jaskier was staring at the gorgeous man next to him. He had so much sadness in his golden eyes and still he had a soft smile on his lips. It was so contradicting and bittersweet. It was so Geralt of Rivia.

Everything about this man was impossible. His skin was so smooth and pale he looked like a painted porcelain doll. His eyes were feline shaped and that absurd honeyed whiskey colour should have been feral but it wasn’t, it was unimaginable for him to look into Geralt’s yellow gaze and feel terror. It was filled with so much love. Love he kept inside of him. Love that he never dared to share with anyone. Love that he never received. Love that he was afraid to ask for.

Geralt’s whole being was too much. He was so broken and at the same time he was the strongest soul Jaskier had ever met. He barely used his words but he was saying so much. He was all sharp angles and gentle touches. Those hands were created to destroy and instead he used them to protect others.

Jaskier was so deeply and stupidly in love with this man he felt like he was being burned alive just from standing right next to him. He was afraid to even move. He was afraid that he would push it too far. He was scared he would say something so triggering the witcher would never be able to look at him again and see him, Jaskier, and not somebody else’s shadow from the past. Geralt was a broken winged bird and he wanted to just hold him in his palm and help him heal but he was afraid he would cause more pain and damage if he touched him.

“He wrote his first song about me on this lute.” Geralt said and his raspy voice pushed Jaskier out of his thoughts like a warm hand on his lower back just gently nudging him to go. “He handled it like it was made of glass.” The witcher let out a tiny snort through his nose and the brunet just couldn’t fucking take his eyes off of him. “He later on bought other lutes but this was always his favourite. He played on it when he wanted to impress royalty and fuck he did impress all of them.”

Jaskier thought it would hurt him to hear Geralt talk about someone he grieved for so long and still did. But it didn’t. If anything it just made him love the witcher even more. For someone who was told and taught to repress his feelings, Geralt was chock-full of them for sure. “I don’t know if it’s still in tune or useable but you can try.” Geralt shrugged and Jaskier needed a few seconds to digest the words he heard.

“Huh?” The brunet just blinked dumbly. “What? Me? Oh no it’s fine really. I don’t want to ruin it. It must be so fragile. It’s hundreds of years old.”

“It can always be fixed even if you break it but not everyone can say that they played on an elven made lute.” Geralt said with a grin and the brunet could feel his heartbeat in his whole body.

“M-maybe next time. But I will hold you to that.”

“Hm.”

Just even the idea of playing on that instrument was giving him anxiety. Not because Jaskier wasn’t good with lutes, he was bloody brilliant, but handling something so delicate was a whole other thing. If he would possess something so valuable like that he would keep it behind glass. Jaskier closed the case and placed the box on the side. Next time, he said to himself.

Geralt didn’t go back to the stairs to sit down. No. He just turned away and pulled a box towards himself. Jaskier hid the small smirk on his face as the witcher started to go through his own stuff like he didn’t even know what was hidden in his own basement.

The witcher found some of his old clothes later on. Jaskier made fun of him mercilessly because of them. Those tight leather trousers and black faded tunics were ridiculous. Gods he was sure Geralt looked delicious in them. The material was so coarse he couldn’t even imagine how uncomfortable it was to wear these all day long. Jaskier wanted to see Geralt in those clothes more than anything but they were so old even a smaller breeze could rip them apart.

Not too much later Geralt found a heavy box. From the weight of it he could told that it was filled with books. He was wrong. They were notes and diaries. They all belonged to Jaskier. His personal belongings from the Oxenfurt Academy. Geralt never went there after he died and he didn’t know that Yennefer collected these and emptied the bard’s room. He would thank her for that later.

“For Melitele’s tits, Yen.” He said hoarsely as he opened up one of the books he found on the top. He remembered this one. The poet carried it around for some months when they had first met. The paper inside had already turned into a dark yellow colour and the cover was cracked and run-down. The handwriting on the first page made his whole body shiver.

_1240_

_Julian Alfred Pankratz_

Jaskier’s handwriting was nothing like anyone would expect. _His_ bard was a sophisticated, pretentious peacock yet his handwriting was messy and hurried like someone who had too many thoughts and too little time to write it down. The notes were from the year when they started travelling together. Geralt raced through the old pages. It was filled with little remarks and longer notes about hunts.

_We shared dinner for the first time. Geralt seems to be an excellent cook yet he does not appreciate compliments._

Geralt read that out loud and won a laugh from the brunet.

_Today I caught the mighty witcher whispering to his horse ‘Roach’. I fear that witchers are unfairly slandered. Geralt has been nothing but a remarkable and heroic man, but I have to admit, he is rather morose._

Jaskier snickered and walked over to him to read the notes together.

“Oh look at this one; _Today I mentioned to Geralt that he looks like an undertaker. He hasn’t talked to me in two days. My only company in these mountains is Roach. I may die of boredom before we find the bruxa_.” The brunet read it out loud and lifted his blue gaze to the mutant with a grin.

“It was just a few hours. He always exaggerated.” He mumbled and Jaskier was not buying it. The brunet just had that small twitch in his left eyebrow like a teasing _sure, whatever you say_.

“Undertaker?” He asked with a smirk and Geralt slowly closed the book in his palms.

“Maybe he was right about that.” He muttered so deep and so hastily Jaskier almost didn’t catch it.

“Can I read it?” The brunet asked before Geralt put the notebook back into the box. Maybe he was too greedy but he wanted to know about their relationship. Master Jaskier seemed to know Geralt maybe even better than Yennefer did and his snarky comments were cracking him up especially because the witcher didn’t seem to mind them. The silver haired man had a somewhat shy smile on his full lips as he handed the book to him and turned his face away from Jaskier.

“I promised you witcher stories.” Geralt shrugged.

“Thank you.” The brunet said gently and placed the diary on one of the shelves.

“There is a whole box of them. If you want to read those as well.”

“You don’t mind? They are very personal.” Jaskier asked hesitantly and he caught Geralt’s amber eyes for a split second before the witcher looked away again.

“It’s you.” He said gravelly and the brunet knew that there was more the mutant wanted to add, more he wanted to say but he didn’t. He couldn’t. It was fine. Jaskier understood him just fine. It wasn’t an ‘It’s just you so it’s doesn’t matter’. No. It was more like an ‘It’s you and I want you to know’.

“You two were really close huh?” Jaskier asked as he grabbed the whole box and put it near the stairs. It was a silly question. They travelled together for more than a decade. They weren’t just two strangers sharing adventures. They were partners. Companions.

“He was my best friend.” Geralt interrupted his train of thoughts and Jaskier looked at the witcher’s back. His raspy voice wasn’t like when someone talked about their friend with fondness and love. Geralt sounded like he had a mouth full of sand. It was dry and painful. “I never told him that.”

Jaskier wanted to ask why but the man’s shoulders were trembling. He kept his mouth shut and walked over to the monster hunter.

“I’m sure he knew it.” He offered quietly and Geralt let out a bitter chuckle.

“I still should’ve told him.”

“Hey look at me. Come on.” Jaskier placed his right palm over the witcher’s forearm and demanded those yellow eyes to look at him. “I read many of his songs before. He adored you. Fuck he composed hundreds of ballads about you. I’m sure he knew that you cared for him.” Jaskier flashed a broad smile but the witcher face didn’t light up. The man just stared at the brunet like he wasn’t even aware their surroundings. He was so lost in his head Jaskier silently snarled and walked over to the shelf where he left Master Jaskier’s diary and opened it on a random page.

 _“Today was the first full moon of the summer. Geralt lead us to this godforsaken village near Breza. He heard some rumours about something lurking in the forest but refuses to tell me what it is. In the past few weeks we were always welcomed everywhere with open arms. Geralt seems to ignore my involvement in his newfound fame. Yet these folks probably never heard about music. Good music may I add. As soon as we stepped into the village Geralt was threatened with pitchforks.”_ Jaskier read the bard’s words out loud and Geralt seemed to slowly come back reality. His posture started to change and he lifted his eyes to the brunet.

“ _Even if he never said it I know it bothers him. He is much more f-fragile than he looks.”_ Jaskier looked up when he stuttered and saw those amber eyes watching him intensely. He felt his cheeks heat up. “ _Roach agrees as well. I wish everyone could see him like how I see him. I swore one day I will make him believe he is worthy of love applause.”_ Jaskier went quiet as he moved his eyes to the other and Geralt was still just studying his features with that unreadable face. “S-see? He cared for you. He wanted the best for you so don’t think he didn’t know how much you appreciate him.” The brunet smiled and the answer from the witcher was something he didn’t expect.

“Can you…” Geralt mumbled and then looked away. He bared his teeth for a second like he was cursing himself in his head and Jaskier once again understand him even if the mutant couldn’t say anything. The brunet just hummed and lowered his eyes back to the pages.

 _“We had to stay in the stables again. If my dear Mother would know how I spend my nights she would disown me from the family.”_ Jaskier cackled softly before he continued. “ _Watching Geralt prepare for a hunt was so similar to a singer warming up their throat. ‘I will keep this metaphor for myself I don’t think he would appreciate the comparison’. He has this habit before he leaves. I don’t think he is aware of doing it but Geralt always strokes Roach three times and then presses his forehead to the mare’s cheek for a few moments. This small ritual seems to calm him down.”_

Jaskier carefully lifted his eyes to the witcher who was still standing like a statue but now he had his eyes closed. “ _I fear it would be my last day on the Continent if I would compose this into a song. I wish he wouldn’t keep his gentleness hidden.”_ Jaskier stopped when he heard Geralt let out a broken laugh. It was short and more like just a puff of air leaving his mouth, but he had his lips turned up and it was enough for the brunet.

“He did put that into one of his ballads years later. He thought I would strangle him for that but I never cared what anyone thought about me. It was him all along I never wanted to disappoint. It was him I-” Geralt shut his mouth quickly. His hands clenched into fists by his sides and as soon as he opened his unreadable eyes and their gaze met Jaskier he forgot how to breathe. They just stared at each other for long minutes before the younger man opened his mouth to spoke.

“He never wrote about a man.” The brunet whispered and he had to lick his dry, chapped lips before he could continue. “He wrote many songs about you and Yennefer. It was Yennefer right? He sang about your lover with violet eyes.” Geralt just stared. He couldn’t form answers. He couldn’t even force out a grunt to respond. “But he never sang about the man you loved. It wasn’t forbidden back then. Men in love I mean. It wasn’t unusual yet he never mentioned it.” Geralt heart was beating so fast in his chest he felt his pulse even in the tips of his fingers.

“He never wrote about your lover who d-died in your arms.” Jaskier was too sharp and clever and Geralt felt like he was drowning. He felt like someone threw him into freezing water with his hands and legs bound together. He was helplessly getting deeper. “How did Jaskier pass away?” In that moment Geralt knew that his heart just turned into dust. Those piercing blue eyes were seeing through him like he was a leaf held towards the Sun. “Fuck, Geralt.” Jaskier voice was so troubled and broken it didn’t even sound like him anymore. The loud slap as he closed the diary in his hand echoed between the walls. Jaskier took three long steps and the witcher was wrapped in heat and lavender.

He could feel Geralt’s body quiver as he closed his arms over the man’s bigger frame. Jaskier was fisting the witcher’s leather jacket on his back and his other hand was pulling the man closer by his neck. He felt Geralt’s heartbeat in his own chest. His breathing was tickling the sensitive skin on his neck. Geralt white hair in the high ponytail was brushing against the back of his hand.

Jaskier wanted to squeeze the sadness out him.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You shouldn’t… you… how can you be around me?” The brunet talked into Geralt’s skin. His lips were slightly touching that pale neck. He felt the witcher’s pulse against his cheek. Geralt whole body shivered. “Why did you let me come back? I know I’m stubborn but you let me come back, Geralt. Why?” Jaskier pleaded and asked over and over again but the mutant still hasn’t moved a muscle. “You shouldn’t call me that. Don’t call me Jaskier! Call me anything else! I don’t want you to…to-”

“I want to.” Geralt’s voice had never been deeper. It had never been raspier. It had never been more honest either. Jaskier thought it was impossible but he did manage to pull him closer. In any second they could melt together and become one body.

“You loved him?” He breathed out and maybe Geralt only understood him because he could feel the brunet’s lips moving against his skin. There was barely any noise coming out of Jaskiers throat.

“Yes.” Geralt choked on that one single syllable. “I don’t want to call you anything else.” He whispered and it wasn’t entirely true.

He wanted to call Jaskier many things. My Love. My Dearest.

He wanted to call him _his._ His Jaskier. His Songbird. His partner. His lover. His soul mate. His happiness. His Darling.

“You can call me anything as long as you don’t hurt yourself.” Jaskier mumbled and Geralt nodded. He couldn’t say anything else. He just hoped it would be enough if he wrapped his hands around that narrow waist so they could stand like this forever. Even if forever wasn’t long enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here we are, I hope you liked this chapter. 
> 
> If you wanna talk feel free to leave a comment or find me on twitter^^
> 
> @doberainbow
> 
> PS: We are living in crazy times folks. I wish you all the best and I hope every single one of you is safe out there!  
> #BlackLivesMatter
> 
> #HappyPrideMonth


	12. Do you believe in destiny?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Dear Hearts, 
> 
> Another chapter here. As always @LadyAhiru did a brilliant job and fixed all my mistakes, thank you, Love<3
> 
> Well then, enjoy!!

Geralt forgot the meaning of time while he was hugging Jaskier’s warm body. The brunet smelled so intoxicating and the witcher knew that if he held him long enough his own clothes would take that faint lavender scent on. He had missed this. He had only hugged his bard a few times before. He still remembered the first time the poet had wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into an embrace.

Geralt had never been hugged before that. Maybe he had been hugged by his mother when he was little but he couldn’t recall the memory. He would sometime got an arm around his shoulder from someone in Kaer Morhen. Vesemir used to pat him on the back when the old witcher was proud of him but Geralt never gotten a hug before. Not by someone he didn’t pay for.

_“Fuck Geralt are you okay?”_

He remembered the first time Jaskier had found him all beaten up and torn open. They had only known each other for a few months and the witcher had nearly been killed by a pack of vorefs. Those wolf-like creatures had ambushed him and had sliced him up with ease. Geralt had been hanging onto dear life by just sheer willpower. The poet had found him kneeling on the ground covered in his own blood and mud from the swamp he was fighting in.

_“Phew, a brilliant job as always my dear Witcher.” The bard’s voice was breathy from running as he slowed down next to the mutant and looked around the battlefield. Geralt was losing his vision rapidly. The blackness was slowly taking over. He felt his sword slip out of his trembling grip._

_“Geralt?” Jaskier walked closer and when the witcher still didn’t react in any way he stomped over the other’s body in a small half circle to look into those golden eyes._

_“Fuck Geralt are you okay?”_

_The witcher’s eyes nearly rolled back into his skull before he felt two palms hold his face and he saw Jaskier’s worried eyes. He felt like he was looking through a glass darkened by smoke. He heard Jaskier repeat his name over and over again but the noises started to get boisterous until there was nothing but loud thunderstorm in his ears. The last thing he remembered was how the bard tried to hold his body closer to his as he screamed for help._

_Geralt woke up with a throbbing headache in a dimly lit room. The candles were nearly burnt down when he blinked his heavy eyelids open and he felt like a shipwreck. His skin felt raw and his body was heavy. He felt like he would break the bed he was laying on in any second. He felt like his body was filled with rocks. Maybe his bones turned into steel._

_“Mhmm.”_

_There was a soft moan from his left side. Geralt raised his pounding head and cast his eyes to the person sitting next to him. There was a huge armchair pulled close to his bed and in that chair, there was Jaskier curled up in a deep sleep with his head resting on his arms which were crossed over his knees. The bard wasn’t wearing his boots or doublet. His hair was chaotically messy and his hands and fingers were still covered in Geralt’s blood._

_The witcher just stared at the brunet who unintelligibly mumbled in his dream. He was there just sitting and waiting for him to wake up. He never had anyone sitting beside his bed when he was injured before. Not even at the School of the Wolf. He always woke up alone and later he get some visitors. This was different now._

_Geralt pushed himself up at a slow pace and winced when his wounds started to pull and sting over his abdomen. Jaskier’s dark eyelashes fluttered at the noise and his tired, sleepy eyes lazily blinked open. The witcher saw as the poet’s vision cleared and quickly realised where he was._

_“Geralt?” Jaskier lifted his head and put down his bare foot on the floor. The white-haired man saw those foreign emotions display on Jaskier’s face in mere seconds. ”Oh fuck Geralt!”_

_It happened so fast. The bard was out of his seat immediately. The legs of the armchair creaked on the wooden floor, from being pushed back, and there was this overwhelming heat wrapping around Geralt tightly. It hurt at first when Jaskier’s chest crashed against his own as the bard threw his arms over his neck and pulled his body against him. He remembered how the air was punched out of his lungs._

_“Gods, I’m so glad you woke up.” The brunet’s voice was breathy and deep from sleep and it was so loud as he was speaking directly into Geralt’s ear. It was paralyzing him._

_They sat there for minutes. He let Jaskier hug him until the bard calmed down and pulled away with a wide grin on his face. His scent was suffocating Geralt. At that moment the witcher understood that nobody ever cared for him as much as this young, silly bardling did._

_The next time they hugged was initiated by Geralt just a few years later._

“Well isn’t this touching?” The cooing voice came from the top of the stairs and Jaskier and Geralt moved away like two birds who got scared by a wild animal. Yennefer had a shit-eating grin on her gorgeous face as she watched the two men angrily glaring at her. “Sorry boys but Geralt is needed in the office right now. One of our werewolves just went rabid.”

Yen raised her dark eyebrows as Geralt just silently bared his teeth at her. Interesting.

“Fuck.” The witcher snarled and stormed away from Jaskier all the way up the stairs into his own living room. Yen just stood there as she rhythmically tapped her nails on the stair railing.

“What?” The brunet asked as he shyly shrugged his shoulders and avoided those violet eyes.

“I’m sorry I interrupted.” Yennefer smiled and thoroughly enjoyed how the blush crept down onto Jaskier’s neck.

“Y-you didn’t. We were just talking about… things. From the past.”

“I bet.” Yen nodded and watched as the brunet was fidgeting under the weight of her eyes. “Well, since Geralt left, would you like to join me for dinner?”

He did and here they were sitting in Ellander’s poshest restaurant. Jaskier couldn’t stop staring. The staff members were treating them like royalty and for a second he truly believed that the mage was from royal blood. Everything about the woman screamed high-class and opulence. Jaskier had a healthy amount of confidence and self-respect, yet next to Yennefer he felt like a toad.

“I wasn’t always like this you know.” Yennefer said suddenly when the waiter left with their menu and the brunet was frowning at her with confusion. “When we become mages there is a ritual before you can join the kingdoms. They change you. Everything about you. Make you… perfect.” She explained while she pointed at her own face and Jaskier made a disturbing scowl at that.

“What being powerful is not enough you have to be stunningly gorgeous as well?” The brunet huffed and Yen’s smile grew at that.

“Well, they were men after all. Gods forbid that they have to listen to a woman who is not beautiful.” The mage sighed and Jaskier rolled his blue eyes.

“No offense but it sounds like sorceresses were more like accessories than wise advisors.”

“Here you are knowing nothing about the era yet you understand the problems better than anyone else.” Yennefer grinned and the brunet just proudly smiled back at the woman.

“Was the same thing happening to witchers as well?” Jaskier asked and the mage just raised an eyebrow at him. “I mean they get that magical plastic surgery before they leave?” As soon as the brunet said those ridiculous words in the same sentence the mage burst into a wholehearted laugh.

“I have to disappoint you but Geralt is just naturally that pretty.” Yennefer giggled and took a sip from her red wine.

“The bastard.” Jaskier cursed under his breath and Yen had that mischievous spark in her eyes.

“It is unfair, isn’t it? Tell me Jaskier, if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?” Yennefer leaned closer and propped her elbows on the table.

“Well as someone who is perfectly satisfied with my dashing looks there would be only less than a hundred things I would change about my appearance in an instant.” The brunet confessed as he threw back a thick lock of hair from his forehead and the mage just snorted.

“Once I asked the same thing from Geralt and you know what he said?”

“Let me guess, he said ‘Everything’.” Jaskier grunted and gave his best witcher impersonation that earned him a grin and a nod from the sorceress. “He is an idiot.”

“Well, you two have that in common. That’s why you are so perfect for each other.”

“You’re surprisingly rude when you are trying to be nice but I’m so glad you believe in our relationship. Honestly. But you never told me why. You know something I don’t?” Jaskier teased and the grin was utterly malicious on Yennefer’s face.

“I know more than most of the people. I can see things no one else can and I know Geralt longer than anyone.” Yennefer started proudly and the brunet shivered from the sheer strength behind those lilac eyes. “And I can see the way he looks at you. It gives me hope that one day he will be happy again.” Jaskier couldn’t fight with the heat taking over his cheeks and he quickly hid his smile behind his cup. “How are you two doing anyway?”

“Well, Geralt told me that I remind him of someone he used to love and died in his arms. That person was no other than Master Jaskier. I don’t know how he can still be near me. I’m afraid one day I will do or say something so triggering I will scare him away forever.” Jaskier confessed and it even surprised him how easily those true words rolled off his tongue.

“Geralt is braver than that and he likes you very much so I wouldn’t worry about that.” Yennefer said but the gloomy cloud was still hovering over Jaskier’s face. “But you are worried about something else as well right?”

Fuck. Yennefer still scared him. Each time she looked at him with those purple eyes Jaskier felt naked like his soul was exposed and served on a silver plate.

“How could I ever compete with that?” The words were rushed and rough. He shut his jaw so tightly his teeth knocked together rather loudly. “T-the bond between them. All those years they spent together and I’m… I’m nothing. I’m nobody. I could never write songs about him and tell everyone how great he is if nobody knows about him. I can’t… fuck I can’t compete with someone who was there with him for so long. Who fought with him and… I just-”

“Believe me, if there is anyone he will ever love as much as he loved the bard it will be you, Darling.” Yennefer interrupted and the rest of Jaskier’s rambling stuck in his throat.

“S-sure. Right. That is good to know.” The brunet shook his head with a disbelieving look and Yen just smirked.

“You will understand it one day.”

“Because I guess you can’t just tell me now?” Jaskier asked and the lady just shrugged.

“It’s not my place to tell you that but maybe I can tell you about some other things.” The mage winked at him and it was his time now to have a playful grin on his lips.

“Alright. I see. I hope Geralt knows that his best friend is a gossipmonger.” Jaskier teased and the mage looked so smug as if she just got a compliment. “What were your first thoughts about Geralt?” The brunet spoke and honestly, it wasn’t the question that Yennefer was expecting.

Her first thoughts, huh? It made her smile looking back to that night when they first met. How clearly uncomfortable and anxious the witcher was but put on his brave face and of course it was all for Jaskier.

“A fool.” Yennefer said shortly and the brunet coughed into his cup. “The idiot walked into my orgy with a choking bard in one hand and a pint of apple juice in the other stinking like a horse after he hadn’t slept for days and he was so fucking adorable.” The mage chuckled and Jaskier didn’t know which part of that rant was the most hilarious. “He was so worried about the bard he didn’t leave his side throughout the whole day after I saved his life.”

“Was he… I mean were they, back then in…”

“In love?” Yennefer asked when the brunet’s mumbling turned into a mess. “Not Geralt, no. The bard was in love with him since the first time they met but Geralt was an idiot. Still is by the way. The fool thought he was in love with me.” Jaskier looked away quickly. The weight of those eyes was unbearable.

“He wasn’t, don’t worry.” Yennefer said when he could feel the change in the other’s posture. “He made a wish. He stupidly bound himself to me with a wish when he captured a djinn.”

“A djinn? Like a genie? Those floaty fellas?” Jaskier knit his eyebrows together when the woman nodded her head.

“Yeah. They were extremely rare back then and a few years later they all disappeared but Geralt managed to capture one and greatly fuck up the wishes.” The mage sighed and the brunet just bit back that laugh which was crawling up inside his throat.

“What were his wishes?” Jaskier asked and those violet eyes followed as the man nervously licked his top lip.

“He killed a guard who beat him up and he nearly killed the bard when he asked for some peace.” Yennefer explained and the horrified look and the brunet’s face urged her to elaborate a little bit more. “Djinns are unpredictable. They twist your wishes into something more dangerous. Geralt just wanted some rest and the djinn attacked the bard because it though he was bothering Geralt.”

“Oh, so he didn’t want to harm Master Jaskier?” The question was hesitant and so absurd the mage just snorted as she shook her head.

“No. Never. Geralt would have sacrificed himself for the bard if he had to. The guilt nearly killed him when he realised he was the one who harmed the songbird.” Yennefer smiled as she remembered how broken the witcher had been when he had stood next to Jaskier’s bed and watched the poet sleep, covered in his own blood in the sorceress’ bed.

“Geralt used to be different.” She said all of sudden and the brunet’s blue eyes were back on her face once again. “When _he_ died, a part of Geralt died as well. He used to be more human. He wasn’t afraid to get attached. But when Jaskier died he never really got over it. The guilt ate him up.”

“For not telling him how he felt?” The brunet asked and Yennefer’s face darkened in mere seconds.

“That too but mainly because Geralt caused Jaskier’s death.” Those words were like a bucket of icy water had thrown at him. The brunet’s whole body shivered and he could feel his skin on his arms turn into goose bumps. “It wasn’t fully Geralt’s fault but he died because he was with a witcher.” Jaskier couldn’t say anything to that. There was literally nothing on this Earth to say to something like that.

“When he is with you, I can see the old Geralt in there.” Yennefer continued and the brunet could feel his lungs get smaller and smaller inside his body. As if someone was sucking the air out of the room and his body just gave up. “Do you believe in destiny Jaskier?”

“W-well I believe that things happen for a reason. I believe that everyone has a purpose and we all need to do our part. I… I believe that everyone has someone perfect out there for them and I want to believe that there is an order somewhere in this whole chaos.” Jaskier babbled and Yennefer just watched the young man in front of him.

“It’s funny how I never believed in miracles and destiny until I met you, Jaskier.” The sorceress grinned and the brunet nearly choked on his water. “I hope you like spicy food because what you ordered is going to burn your taste buds off.” Yennefer smiled innocently as the waiter hurried towards their table with their plates and left Jaskier in absolute confusion.

Geralt ended up being covered in fur and guts again as usual. He couldn’t remember the last time when he went home and didn’t need a full-body scrub. He also nearly got fired when he dropped the werewolf’s severed head on his boss’ table when the man demanded a detailed report.

“He attacked. I killed him. Detailed enough?” Geralt asked as his chief tried to find the words he wanted to shout at the witcher. The man’s head had an alarming purplish colour as he gaped at the severed body part on his fine mahogany table. The blood was oozing out and painting the files and papers on his desk red.

Geralt didn’t wait for approval to leave. He hid the smirk that was trying to fight its way onto his lips and stormed out of the office. Every single employee on the floor was staring at him when he slammed the door shut behind himself. The mutant knew that this is what they were all waiting for. They wanted him to snap like a rubber band and there he was, throwing a werewolf’s head on his boss’s table.

Geralt bared his teeth at the people glaring at him and walked towards the stairs. He wanted to apologise to Jaskier. He left him there alone with Yennefer without a word. The witcher checked the time on his phone. It was just past midnight. He should send a text to him, it was too late for anything else than a message.

Half an hour later Geralt parked his car in front of Jaskier’s building and let his head rest on the steering wheel for a few moments. These were the times when he really missed Roach. The mare would never let him ride her in the middle of the night to the other side of the town.

Roach had been Geralt’s safety net under his own stupidity.

Jaskier’s window was facing towards the other side of the building so the witcher didn’t know if the brunet was still awake or not. He climbed out of his car and walked towards the front door.

_Bad fucking idea._

He kept repeating it in his head but his limbs seemed to disagree with him. His legs carried him up to Jaskier’s floor and there he was standing in all his gruesome, morose glory at the brunet’s doorstep.

He could hear his heartbeat from inside the flat. Geralt closed his eyes and focused on Jaskier. The bard was sitting probably on his sofa and hummed a soft tune under his breath. The witcher could feel the tension leave his body as soon as Jaskier’s voice was the only thing he was hearing. His fingers unclenched from the fist they were pulled into. His breathing slowed down, his face relaxed and his frown disappeared.

He sometimes forgot how calming the other’s presence was. He used to climb into his bed in whatever rundown tavern they were spending the night in and just listen to the brunet’s heartbeat from the other room to help him sleep better. Geralt of course was such a coward he never told his bard that if he could he would attach his body to the poet and never leave his side. He had pushed the songbird away with his god-awful manner and hoped that Jaskier would not leave him.

Geralt realised that he shouldn’t be here. It was too late, he was covered in grime and he was being a creep. He pushed himself away from the wall he was leaning against ready to leave when his phone chirped loudly in his pocket. The noise was echoing between the silent walls of the hallway as he cursed and glared at his screen.

**“i had an amazing day with u today”**

The message from Jaskier was so simple yet it managed to punch the air out of Geralt’s body and made him absolutely unaware of his surroundings. Maybe that’s why he didn’t hear the rapid footsteps inside the apartment and couldn’t run away when the brunet yanked his door open and those blue eyes met his startled golden gaze.

“I thought I was just hallucinating but it was really your phone.” Jaskier grinned as he leaned against the doorframe and Geralt jaw clenched while he looked away from the other. What a fucking idiot he was. “Do you want to come in?”

He really shouldn’t. It was bad enough that he was here but Jaskier wasn’t caring about all that. He smiled softly at the witcher and walked into his studio flat leaving the door wide open for Geralt.

“Would you like a tea?” The brunet called out and his voice rang loudly in the quiet building. The witcher followed inside and closed the door behind himself. The flat was warm and sweet from Jaskier’s scent. The younger man was wearing loose pyjama trousers and a faded grey t-shirt with holes and bleach marks on it. He was painfully gorgeous and Geralt wanted to rub his face into that small patch of skin where Jaskier’s long pale neck met his shoulder.

The witcher toed off his boots and stood there by the door while Jaskier turned the kettle on. He didn’t want to move. He shouldn’t even be here. If he moved a muscle he would get werewolf pieces all over the carpet.

“How was the hunt?” Jaskier asked as he prepared two mugs.

“Bloody.” Geralt grunted and the brunet just snickered as he raised a single eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, I can see that.” The witcher felt the uncomfortable twisting in his stomach that always came with a wave of shame. “Would you like to take a shower? I may have some clothes that would fit you.” Jaskier offered kindly and was already walking towards his wardrobe to dig something out for the mutant.

“You didn’t ask why I’m here.” Geralt murmured and the brunet stopped in the middle of his flat and tilted his head to the right as he looked at the man.

“It doesn’t matter. You are here because you want to be here. That is a good enough reason for me and I like that you came here.” Jaskier shrugged and the silver-haired man had to physically restrain himself from crossing the distance between their bodies and wrapping his arms around the brunet. “If you want to tell me why you came to my flat I will listen, but you don’t have to.”

Geralt couldn’t hold the weight of Jaskier’s eyes anymore and he casted his amber gaze somewhere else. The brunet just smiled and started to frantically pull out clothes from his wardrobe and pushing them back in the drawers when it seemed to be a too small to fit the witcher.

“These should fit you, one of my uhm _friend_ left them here ages ago.” Jaskier turned around with black sweats and a black t-shirt in his hands with a band’s name on it Geralt never heard of before. He wouldn’t question where these clothes came from and he heavily ignored the bitter taste of jealousy in his mouth as well. “Only if you want to stay of course.” The brunet stopped and he bit onto his bottom lip while he waited for the witcher’s answer. He should go home. He had no reason to come here and pathetically stare at Jaskier.

“I’m sorry.” He groaned it out and the brunet knit his eyebrows together when he saw the way Geralt shut his eyes tightly and cursed himself in his head.

“For what?” Jaskier asked back but the witcher still refused to look at him. Those yellow eyes found the raggedy carpet in this rubbish apartment rather fascinating.

“I left you in my basement today.” Geralt hissed and the brunet felt the worry leave his body in a form of a snort.

“It’s alright. You had a job to do. The only thing you should be feeling sorry for is that you left me there with Yennefer.” Jaskier grinned and walked into the kitchen to finish their teas.

“You don’t like Yen?” Geralt asked with a frown and the laugh that left the brunet’s throat probably woke up everyone on this floor.

“I love her honestly she is everything I want to be when I grow up. Believe me. But she is terrifying.” Well, it was Geralt’s time to laugh now as he watched Jaskier prepare their drinks. The brunet just put a dash of milk in both of the drinks and a spoon of sugar until his hand freeze in mid-stirring. “I didn’t ask how you like your tea.” He looked up at the witcher like he just confessed a brutal murder and the mutant had a silly smirk on his pale face.

“Famous last words.” Geralt mumbled and the other just rolled his eyes with a chuckle. “Is it really alright if I-” The witcher bit into his tongue and looked away. He shouldn’t ask this. He already apologised and now it was time to leave.

“Geralt, just stay if you want to.” Jaskier smiled and he was so bloody grateful for how he understood him even when Geralt failed to use his words. Fuck he wanted to hug the brunet and fall asleep in his arms. “Go take a shower quickly before your tea gets too cold.”

Jaskier pointed towards the bathroom and the witcher dragged his exhausted body towards the room without any further questions.

“You will find everything on the shelves. Clean towels are there as well and just throw your clothes into the washing machine I will start it later.” The brunet rambled and Geralt stood there in the doorway and turned around to face Jaskier. “You’re welcome.” He said quickly because he knew what the mutant tried to say. “Now go because I hate to tell this to you but you smell like wet dog.” He grinned because he knew it very well that the witcher would try and apologise and he gently pushed Geralt into the bathroom with the clean clothes and closed the door behind him.

Well, that was a surprisingly lovely turn out. And he thought the best part of his day ended when Yennefer disturbed their hug in Geralt’s basement. Jaskier heard as the other fumbled around in his bathroom and a few minutes later the rumble of the water filled up his small flat.

He didn’t know why Geralt had chosen to come here immediately after he finished his job and Jaskier was never ungrateful so he let himself fully enjoy what was given to him. It was terrifying to think about how much he craved the silver-haired man’s company. If he could he would spend all of his waking hours with the witcher and in his dreams, he would be with him some more.

It had happened so fast. He never felt this connected to anyone before and as terrific as it was it scared him. He maybe just unconsciously tried to replace Essi with Geralt and he blindly grabbed onto the man because he was just right there next to him.

He hoped not. He wanted this to be real, to be something more. He wanted that yearning in his chest to mean something bigger. Yennefer said it must be destiny and Jaskier wanted to believe in that. It felt like destiny, even if he didn’t know how that felt like.

He wanted this to be something more than just a jobless, grieving bartender and musician-wannabe having a crush on the dark and handsome mysterious hero who saved him.

It had to be more than that.

Geralt finished quickly. The grime was mostly on his clothes but his hands still reeked off werewolves until he covered his whole body in Jaskier’s soap and rubbed it deep into his pores. The clothes that the brunet gave him were clearly used to belong to someone else and Geralt pullet the loose t-shirt over his head with a frown. He tried to not think about why Jaskier decided to keep these and who was their owner as he shook his head and opened the bathroom door.

The younger man was pulling a pillowcase over a white cushion when his cornflower eyes met Geralt’s amber ones.

“I prepared the bed for you.” Jaskier said and the witcher looked over the plenty big enough mattress so why was the brunet pulling a sheet over the sofa was a true mystery. Geralt opened his mouth to ask when the other raised his pointing finger and shook his head. “You need a proper sleep so you will take the bed. Now drink your decaf tea before it gets any colder.” And with that, the mutant had a mug shoved into his palms and Jaskier walked over the sofa to prepare a blanket.

Geralt glared at the brunet. He didn’t mean to kick Jaskier out of his own bed especially because the witcher spent half of his life sleeping in the rain on rocks while smelling like a wet horse. He didn’t need a bed to sleep properly. Damn, he didn’t even need a horizontal surface he could just stand in the corner and sleep like he was a broom leaning against the wall.

“I’m guessing that you’re trying to come up with a reason to make me change my mind.” The brunet wondered aloud with a teasing smile and Geralt felt being caught red-handed. “It won’t work. In my book, anyone who fought with a werewolf has the privilege to sleep in the bed.” Jaskier grinned as he put his hands on his hips and looked at the white-haired man who just kept scowling at him. “I on the other hand had a lovely date today with a dashing but rather sassy man, went to his utterly lifeless house where he gave me the best hug of my life and later on I went to the poshest restaurant in the city where I ate for free.”

Jaskier slowly walked closer to Geralt who just stood there in a t-shirt with “Fuck the Police” written across his chest in big bold letters and even like this he tried to look intimidating. It wasn’t working. The brunet couldn’t stop smiling.

“Just take the bed. Let this be my thank you gift because you saved humanity once again by destroying yet another beast.”

Geralt still hated the idea but he was too tired to protest. 

“Do you want to talk or you want to go to bed?” Jaskier asked and even though he had that innocent smile on his face Geralt couldn’t help it how his heart started beating in a rapid rhythm and his imagination, well that deep-fried his brain and there was probably thick, dark smoke coming out of his ears when he heard those words. How many times had he fantasised about that his bard one day going to be cheeky enough to ask something riskier than his usual teasing and Geralt would have the courage to act upon his feelings. He sometimes let his mind play this masochistic game with him and the mutant pretended that it didn’t hurt him.

But it was different now. He had this numb throbbing pain in his bones and he knew that Jaskier was just being a nice person and Geralt should stop being so fucking creepy. He really wanted to sleep, but he wanted to share the bed with the brunet and breathe in his lavender scent and feel his warm skin under the blanket.

“Come on, you look like you will pass out. Go to the bed, Geralt we will talk in the morning.” Jaskier slowly wrapped his long fingers around his arm and he started to pull the witcher towards his bed. It would be so easy to just reach for him and tug him closer. It would be so easy to just tangle his fingers into his soft, brown hair and get lost in those large blue eyes.

It would be so easy and it could destroy everything forever if the witcher misunderstood Jaskier. The fear in his belly was heavy like he swallowed a handful of rocks and as always, his cowardice won.

“I don’t know why you decided to come over tonight but I’m glad you are here.” The brunet smiled as they stood next to his bed and let go of Geralt’s arm.

“You should take the bed.” The mutant grunted and Jaskier shook his head with a smile as the witcher blatantly tried to not give him a straight answer. It didn’t really matter why Geralt thought he should come over as long as he wanted to be here. And now, he was there standing next to Jaskier’s bed which was easily big enough to let them both sleep on it.

The brunet knew himself better than that. He wouldn’t sleep a second if Geralt would be laying right next to him under the same cover. That is why he chose to not to disturb the witcher. The man needed a friend right now and Jaskier swallowed down his wishes, chased away those naughty images out of his head, and did what he thought was the best for Geralt.

Be by his side and let him heal.

There couldn’t be anything between them until the witcher defeated his own demons because otherwise, Jaskier would just end up breaking him into smaller pieces. Even if it was painful to let go of Geralt’s arm, he wished him a good night and walked to his sofa.

Fuck. Jaskier wanted nothing more than to fall asleep on the mutant’s chest or wrap himself around the larger body like an octopus and kiss his shoulder as Geralt fell asleep in his arms.

The brunet dropped himself on the sofa and nearly groaned audibly when the worn-out springs and buttons poked his back like if he was laying on a field of pinecones. Jaskier heard as the other man finally climbed into his bed and because his small studio flat was built in an awkward shape he couldn’t see the other man from where he was. It was better this way, he decided and rolled onto his back. He would rather study the witcher’s face all night than get some sleep.

Geralt couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t the new place’s fault or how everything smelled like Jaskier because for him it was like going home. It was the fact that each time he shared a room or a smaller space with the bard in the past he was always able to see him. Now because of the shape of the flat, he only heard the brunet’s slow breathing and rhythmical heartbeats.

He wanted to see him fell asleep. He always loved how easily he could see in the darkness when Jaskier was dozing off in another bed and Geralt didn’t have to feel guilty because he was staring at the poet. The brunet probably had an off switch button somewhere hidden on his body because he was in a deep sleep in a few minutes and there was no storm or drunken bar fight loud enough that could’ve wakened him up.

Jaskier also talked in his sleep while he tossed and turned at least a billion times. Even thinking about it put a foolish grin on Geralt’s face. They sometimes shared a bed, especially in the last few months they spent together and Jaskier always ended up all over the witcher. He was a cuddler. And an aggressive one as well. And maybe the mutant was the only person who knew how amazing the brunet’s scent was after he woke up.

It was so warm and had a honeyed twist in it. It was simply Geralt’s favourite smell in the whole world and he wanted to be close enough to the other to be able to breathe it in again in the morning. He looked at the clock on the nightstand and it said two am. The witcher was staring at the ceiling for over thirty minutes now and even though his eyelids were heavy and he wanted nothing more than just fall into the dreamless darkness he couldn’t.

Geralt sat up and without thinking it through he grabbed his pillow and blanket and jolted out of the bed. The grey carpet that covered most of the flat was tickling his bare feet as he walked over where Jaskier slept on the sofa. The witcher dropped his pillow between the glass coffee table and the couch and a minute later he was laying on the floor next to Jaskier.

Did he look pathetic? He did. Was this extremely childish? Oh yes, it was. Is Jaskier going to accidentally step on him when he wakes up? Probably. Was Geralt feeling bad about this? Absolutely not.

Of course, it would be easier to just pick up the other into his arms and take him to bed so none of them had to wake up with an aching spine, but he respected Jaskier’s choice to sleep on the sofa. He just forgot to tell the brunet that he couldn’t sleep in the same room with him if the other was too far away. And apparently, ten metres were over his limit.

As he opened his amber eyes his head was filled with the slow drumming coming from deep inside the brunet’s chest. To be so close to the brunet while everything surrounding them was quiet made his heartbeats deafeningly loud. Jaskier was facing towards the room with his blanket pulled up until his chin and the lights as they came through the window gave his skin a golden warmth and glimmer.

He was absurdly gorgeous.

His long eyelashes were casting tiny shadows over his cheeks and Geralt wanted to see his face every damn night before he fell asleep. The mutant closed his eyes and inhaled slowly.

This was something he painfully missed. This was everything he thought he would never experience again. This was just the tip of the iceberg and he knew that he would become greedy after this and would want more.

But for now, this was all he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sentimental Geralt joined the chat from the floor*
> 
> Well here we are, I hope you liked this chapter. If you wanna come and talk with me you can always find me on twitter
> 
> @doberainbow
> 
> PS: when i said slow burn i meant sloooooooow burn ;)


	13. Thirst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Loves, 
> 
> sorry for the late update but I just started my new job and if I'm not on training then I'm having an exam, so writing is a liiiittle but difficult now. But do not worry, I'm not going anywhere, I'm just working in slow-mo <3
> 
> And again, big round of applause to @LadyAhiru my dearest beta, please give her love and attention because she deserves everything <3

The first thing he was aware of was his cramping neck, and the awkward twisted shape his body managed to curl itself into during the night. Before this, he never slept on his sofa while he was sober, and now he knew why. Jaskier blinked his weary eyes open and stared at his ceiling. The paint was slowly peeling off in some places, and there was a crack diagonally running across the whole surface. He hated this flat. He hated the constant smell of stale air on the hallways. He hated how the carpets were old and impossible to get rid of. He hated the weak water pressure.

Every morning when he woke up here, he had the same question in his head. Is this really all he deserved? This was it?

He slowly sat up with a sigh and the intention to sneak into the kitchen, and while he straightened up, his spine loudly popped. The brunet noiselessly winced and rubbed the sleepiness out of his eyes with the heels of his palms. He tossed his blanket to the other side of the sofa, and as soon as he turned to get ready for the day, hopefully with a bucket of caffeine, his feet touched something on the floor that wasn’t his old, raggedy carpet. Jaskier dropped his hands from his face and cast his eyes to the floor, there was a mess of limbs lying between the couch and his coffee table.

Geralt during the night somehow ended up sleeping just right beside him on the floor, and the brunet was rightfully confused. Maybe the witcher was a sleepwalker? But how did he dragged his pillow and blanket all the way across Jaskier’s flat and made a nest out of them while he was asleep? Or maybe he just hated how his bed smelled like, and he decided to sleep on the floor instead? That thought made Jaskier’s chest ache, and he pulled up his knees as he watched the white-haired man peacefully slumber.

He should have known that Geralt was breath-taking even when he had lost his hair tie, and his high ponytail turned into waves and rivers of silver hair chaotically tangled up on his pillowcase. He wanted to lean down and sweep away those stubborn locks of hair away from the mutant’s gorgeous face. Geralt was sleeping on his back with his head rolled to the side. The cover was wrapped around his lower torso and legs like tight bandages and Melitele help him, he had one of his toned arms threw above his head, and the other was placed on his stomach, under the over-sized t-shirt.

Jaskier knew that he shouldn’t stare. But he couldn’t stop gawking at him. In the past few weeks, all his waking time had been consumed by day-dreaming about Geralt, and now on this quiet, early morning there he was looking like a goddamn porcelain doll sleeping just an arm’s length away from him.

The witcher had this unique beauty about him.

Of course, Geralt looked like nobody else he ever has seen before. He had this stunning honeyed-whiskey coloured eyes and snow-white hair, but it wasn’t just that. Jaskier wanted to call him handsome and chiselled, but these words were not doing any justice to how magnificent the other indeed was.

He was so contradictory.

Geralt had literal fangs disguised as canines, and it was making Jaskier’s blood stone-cold and boiling hot at the same time. Yet the witcher’s lips were so pink, and dare he says feminine like it was created with mathematical precision. His cupid’s bow was straight up annoyingly kissable. As the witcher’s hand was hooked under his t-shirt, the material crumpled up above his belly button, and Jaskier had trouble keeping his mouth shut.

Every inch of this man seemed to be covered in perfect, smooth, pale skin, and as paintbrush strokes on a canvas, he was decorated with scars. Jaskier won’t rant about his physique because it made him just flustered. But the scars. Those little marks from the past were so damn inviting. He wanted to brush his calloused fingertips over the damaged skin and see if Geralt would shudder from the touch. He wanted to know how sensitive the other was. How hot his skin would be under his palm. He wanted to see if he could tickle the witcher and see his dimples while he laughed.

The thought made Jaskier chuckle, and that nearly inaudible noise caused a small flutter of Geralt’s surprisingly dark eyelashes. The brunet bit his bottom lip as the witcher’s breathing quickened, and a second later, the man was rising up, and his yellow eyes widened into perfect circles as he gasped like he was woken up from a nightmare.

Jaskier saw as Geralt’s muscles tensed up, and his lips were curled into a silent snarl. His pulse quickened while those amber eyes frantically looked around, and he tilted his head to the side.

“Morning, Sunshine.” He said softly, not wanting to startle the seemingly disoriented man even more, and immediately the monster hunter turned his confused face towards the brunet. Jaskier witnessed as the witcher’s sleepy mind slowly turned on like an old computer, and Geralt’s panting slowed down. His frown disappeared, and his yellow eyes were looking into Jaskier’s blue ones like they just met for the first time.

“Slept well?” Jaskier smiled, and maybe it was just the pillow’s imprint leaving a red mark on the witcher’s cheeks or his own imagination was playing a game with him, but the young man was sure he saw Geralt’s face getting a rosy colour like he was caught red-handed. Damn, no man should be this bloody stunning just seconds after they woke up.

He needed a few moments to understand where he was. He had been nearly choking on Jaskier’s smell as he woke up, and for a few seconds, Geralt couldn’t exactly tell what century he was in. The last time when he woke up covered in his bard’s smell was eight hundred years ago, so it was understandable that his brain seemed to lose its grip on reality.

The flat was familiar, and as soon as he heard the other man’s voice, Geralt’s drowsy mind caught up with his vision, and he regained his calmness.

Jaskier was sitting on the couch still in his baggy clothes and dear gods his hair was the fluffiest mess the mutant had ever seen in his long life. His smile was still sleepy and lazy, but his eyes were so vivid, and bright Geralt was scared he would get lost in them like they were a cruel maze. The brunet’s lips moved, and he was clearly waiting for an answer from him with his eyebrows quirked up on his forehead, but the mutant was so lost in those sky-blue pools he didn’t hear a word that Jaskier said.

“Morning.” Geralt mumbled in a throaty voice, and the brunet’s heartbeat instantly quickened up while he chuckled. Jaskier’s scent had that sweet, sugary aftertaste again. It was mouth-wateringly delicious, and it reminded Geralt why he was sleeping on the floor next to the other. That smell was like a dessert created only for him. It was like someone knew what he was craving for, made it into a perfume, and rubbed it into the young man’s flawless skin. It was so raw and pure, it made his head spin.

Jaskier’s smile widened as he saw all the tension and stiffness leave the witcher’s body, and he let himself wonder for a few seconds how it would feel to pass his fingers through that dishevelled silver hair.

“I see even witchers have bed hair.” He teased slightly, and the trademark scowl was back on Geralt’s face topped up with his adorably crazy hair. Jaskier couldn’t help but giggle at the sight.

“You are one to talk.”

“Well, excuse me, but my hair always looks like a fashionable mess, but you, my Dear, on the other hand, are a bloody high-class shampoo advert most of the time.” The brunet smirked as he shook the bird's nest on his head, and Geralt just snorted as he tied half of his hair up in with a loose knot. He couldn’t remember when he had last worn his hair like this. Probably even before the seventeenth century and judging by the look on Jaskier’s face, he was thinking about the same thing.

“So, what happened during the night?”

Or not.

The question was like a bucket of icy water dropped onto him, and Geralt was sure that his already white face became even paler. Any answer would sound ludicrous. He didn’t plan the morning to go like this. He slept in the same room even in the same bed with Jaskier countless times, and the bard never has woken up before him. Not even once. Still, here he was, sitting on the floor, looking like a goddamn idiot, and he was so deep in shame he was nearly drowning in it as he tried to keep his head above the crashing waves.

“I’m not complaining though, it was lovely to see you first in the morning, but I’m sure the floor wasn’t too comfortable.”

“I’m used to it.”

“Okay, Mr. Martyr, keep your secrets then, but next time when you end up sleeping on the floor, don’t be mad if I accidentally step on you.” Jaskier grinned and walked into his small but tidy kitchen.

Geralt was baffled. It seemed like he could act like a madman, and the brunet wouldn’t question him no matter how absurd he was. Yet even if Jaskier didn’t care, he still deserved an explanation.

“Human’s scent is the strongest after they wake up.” The witcher raised his voice a bit, and Jaskier’s head poked out of from behind the fridge’s door.

“Oh, so my bed does smell bad for you?” The brunet asked as he scrunched up his nose, and Geralt was quickly on his feet.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Jaskier made a confused face at that, and usually, this would be the time when the mutant just groaned, mutters a ‘Forget it’ under his breath and walked away, but since he was at least nine hundred years old, it would be a good time to finally grow up. “You smell like freshly cut lavender. When you crush the leaves between your fingers, and it sticks to your skin.” Geralt explained rather clumsily, but because of the way Jaskier’s eyes widened, he didn’t really care how big of a fool he seemed to be.

The brunet was the poet between the two of them. He could paint a picture with his words so gorgeous it made people weep. He could unleash emotions the listener already forgotten they had, and Geralt couldn’t compete with that.

“It sounds very lovely.” Jaskier smiled shyly, and the Witcher saw his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his throat. The brunet’s neck was always something Geralt secretly admired. It seemed so delicate and graceful that the mutant wanted to see how easily he could bruise the skin with his kisses and bites.

“It is.” Geralt’s voice was nothing but a husky whisper, and somehow he walked closer to the brunet without noticing it, and now he could freely breathe that sweet flowery scent deep inside his lungs. “I slept on the floor because I wanted to be close to you.”

Those words rolled off of his tongue so effortlessly and carelessly like it wasn’t a damn serious confession. Like those words didn’t have a secret meaning behind them that he wanted to tell Jaskier but couldn’t due to being a coward. Like those words were just syllables put together and not the most honest sentence that had left his mouth in years.

“I came here yesterday because I wanted to see you.”

Geralt seemed to lose control over his mouth, and he couldn’t really tell how they ended up being so close to each other. How did he cross the whole flat without noticing it? He felt the cold air coming from the open fridge tickling the naked skin on his arms. The small yellow light made Jaskier’s impossibly blue eyes sparkle like crystals. The pale apples of his cheeks were now crimson, and his lips were slightly open as if he wanted to say something so badly but couldn’t force his vocal cords to cooperate with him.

The witcher was shaking. Geralt's whole body was quivering like a leaf in a winter storm.

Fear. Adrenaline. Eagerness. Everything was crashing down on him at the same time.

Jaskier waited for him to continue no matter how long it took him to fight against his dry mouth and screaming thoughts inside his head. The brunet just stood there and gave him all the time he needed.

“I always-”

Geralt opened his lips, and in that cursed second, Jaskier’s phone started to ring on the glass table. The brunet blinked, and his face changed like if the spell that was cast on him just flew away, but he could still feel the aftermath.

The witcher’s heart probably skipped a beat when the ringing became louder, and he quickly closed his mouth and turned away.

“Sorry.” Jaskier apologised and walked over to the coffee table on his weak, wobbly legs. The mutant slowly shut the fridge’s door and poured a glass of water for himself. He needed to cool down.

He lost it again. He was ridiculously weak near the brunet, and he would go against his own rules each time when Jaskier looked at him in a certain way or stood too close or does anything insignificant. He had to remind himself daily, fuck even hourly to not reach out, to not get lost in those eyes, to not let his brain wander and to not blurt out something he could not swallow back.

The infuriating chirping noise stopped, and Geralt could hear a male voice on the other end of the line.

“Yes, it’s me… of course… that would be great. Sure. Yes. Right. Tomorrow is perfect. Thank you so much. Thank you.” Geralt was standing in the kitchen, watching as the brunet paced up and down in his small flat. His bard used to do this when he got stuck with the song he was currently working on. It used to drive the witcher insane when the troubadour walked in circles in their room or camp with his notes in his hands trying to compose. Jaskier used to say that the moving helped him imagine that he was actually getting somewhere with his lyrics even if he didn’t write down a single letter.

This scene put a tiny smile on Geralt's lips as he kept his eyes on the young man. Jaskier’s hair seemed to get longer. The curls close to his ears were nearly forming a perfect ring shape, and he had to blow the locks out of his eyes every few minutes.

The bard used to cut his own hair. Usually, they spent their spare coins on necessities. Food, a bath, maybe some drinks and new clothes. While they travelled together, they never really had the money to pay for a barber.

Geralt was there on many occasions when the brunet stood in front of a mirror after washing his hair and slowly cutting his unruly curls while he chatted about something trivial. The poet said he asked one of the maids who used to work in their home to teach him how to do it before studying in Oxenfurt.

The bard always talked about the Academy with a silly grin on his lips and pride in his chest. He mentioned the prestigious school countless times, he once even dragged Geralt to Oxenfurt to watch him perform at a ball. But as much as Jaskier talked about his years spent with studying, he never mentioned his childhood. Throughout all those years they shared their adventures the brunet never once travelled home or sent a letter to his parents. He never said their names. Geralt didn’t know if he had any siblings or why a nobleman chose to live like an outcast.

The witcher regretted being so negligent and uninterested, mainly because the relentless poet always tried to get to know him better. Jaskier always had one too many questions, and even the tiniest, minuscule information about Geralt made him light up like a sparkler. He was always so easily satisfied. The rudest grunts and a few words could make him grin for hours without end.

His bard truly just… liked being with him.

Geralt realised that the brunet ended the phone call when he turned around with a broad smile, and his blue eyes outshined the sunlight coming through the curtains.

“I have a job interview tomorrow.” Jaskier giggled triumphantly, and the witcher felt his lips curl skyward as well.

“Congrats.” The mutant said gently, and the brunet pulled a face at that.

“Yeah, well, it’s a crap bartending job in the middle of the city, but a job is a job.”

“What would you do instead?”

“Sing.” The reply came so fast both of them just stared at each other for a few silent moments. “I mean… I just want to write and make music. Perform. Give people something to listen to when they are lonely or afraid, when they feel like everything is lost or when they just want to have some fun and don’t worry about anything.” Geralt got lost again in Jaskier’s voice.

Nothing was making a person more beautiful than passion.

“What stopping you?” The witcher was genuinely interested. Back in the day, it was so easy to be famous. If someone was good at something, folks paid for them to use their skills. It didn’t matter what it was. Someone could be the best butcher, blacksmith or a bard, people appreciated it. Nobody needed anything else, just one passion, one thing you excelled at, and it could take you everywhere.

In modern days it wasn’t enough to be great at something. The audience needed more. A show-stopping voice wasn’t good enough anymore, they needed the whole experience. In Geralt’s opinion, _his_ bard was able to do everything. He never told him, but Jaskier was a surprisingly brilliant dancer, and it wasn’t a secret how good of a musician he was. But he was afraid it wasn’t that easy now. Everyone needed connections besides a tremendous amount of luck, and if you were missing one of those things, it was nearly impossible to make it.

“I tried to get into theatres, but they don’t accept anyone without proper education. I auditioned for everything I could, but again, no papers. No friends in the industry. I tried to find a band, but all of them I met had different ideas than what I had in mind. I tried to upload videos, but it’s really not my thing… I need to see the faces of the people I sing to-to… to see their reactions and… I just…”

That little sparkle of desperation and want in Jaskier’s eyes shook Geralt to the core. The witcher well knew how it was to crave for something only to be just far enough that you couldn’t reach it. It was as if the keys to your prison cell were hanging from the wall where you could see them but you could do nothing to grab them.

He wanted to be that person who gave all that to Jaskier. To hand him everything he ever wanted no matter what it was. Love, fame, safety, family. Anything the brunet could ever wish for.

“Choose a university.” Geralt said so hastily Jaskier could only blink at him. He stared at the tall man who walked over him and stopped so close he could see the darker shades of amber in his flaming gold iris.

“Geralt what-”

“Any of them. It can be on the other side of the world. Just say a name.” The mutant interrupted, and the confusion on Jaskier’s face just grew.

“What do you mean?”

“I can get you into any school. Not me, but Yen. She can. It takes nothing. Just say the name, and it’s done. You don’t have to go to the job interview. You can just-”

“Wait.” Jaskier held up his palms and knit his eyebrows together. “I… you are saying that I could go anywhere, illegally, might I add, because of… magic?”

“Hm.” Geralt nodded, and the brunet just shook his head and ran his long fingers through his chaotic hair.

“I can’t do that. No. I shouldn’t. That wouldn’t be fair.” Jaskier rambled, and the mutant could hear his frantic heartbeats inside his chest. The scent of regret and happiness was spiralling in the air. The brunet was debating, and his smell was narrating which side of him was winning.

“What is not fair is making education so expensive that only the rich can afford it.” Geralt snarled, and the younger man just scrunched up his face.

“I know. I wish I could… I just, fuck, Geralt. You are telling me that my dream is only but a magic spell away and-”

“Then be selfish for once. You won’t take anyone’s place away, Yen would create a new one for you. If you want this then-”

“Thank you.” Jaskier smiled at him, but it wasn’t honest or bright, it didn’t reach his eyes, it was just a twitch of his pink lips. “But even if I would say yes, I could never afford a room from a part-time job or how could I even move there and… I just. No. I could never…”

Geralt stood closer, and he wrapped his cold palms around Jaskier’s warm fingers. He could feel the other’s pulse under his soft skin. The brunet was always so hot. The witcher’s heart was beating slower than humans because of his mutation. His blood was flowing like a peaceful river in his veins, and it always made him tremble how warm the young man was.

“Don’t worry about all that.”

The bitter chuckle leaving Jaskier’s lips was gut-wrenching, and the silver-haired man just held his hand closer to his chest like it was a tiny fire between his palms and he wanted to get warmed up by the flames.

“It’s easy for you to say that. Geralt, I can’t just not think about it. I’m always thinking about it. Every single time I buy something non-essential I have to think about which meal I have to skip for that. I-I just…”

And that was the moment when the witcher’s heart broke. He had been so blind all along. He had forgotten how his bard came from wealth and success, and here was this young man in front of him who was so similar, yet their situation was the complete opposite. This Jaskier was an orphan.

“I’m sorry.” Geralt whispered, and the brunet just snorted.

“Why are you apologising? It’s not your fault, silly. It is what it is.”

In that second, the witcher decided that he would ask for forgiveness, not permission. Jaskier was too pure in his heart to ever agree to this even if it was everything he had always wanted. Geralt would give this to him. Geralt would make that wide grin reach those unfairly blue eyes.

“Anyway, we should get some breakfast, right? I can make some eggs and… I mean, if you want to stay, of course.”

“I want to but I can’t, I have some paperwork to do.” Geralt blatantly lied, and the guilt was immediately grabbing his spine like a cold, strong fist, but he needed to talk to Yennefer as soon as possible.

“Oh, well. Rain check on that breakfast?”

“Hm.” The witcher looked down and saw that he was still holding Jaskier’s right hand in between his palms. The small flush of heat on his cheeks was fast as he let go of the brunet and stepped away. “G-good luck with your interview.”

Jaskier didn’t know how the man’s mood could change in a blink of an eye, but again, Geralt was always a mystery. He only smiled when the witcher wished him good luck and missed the cold touch on his skin. The mutant’s skin didn’t just look like marble, it really was the perfect, smooth alabaster skin lacking all the flaws and blemishes. Even the way how Geralt was slightly colder than the normal was so stupidly attractive.

“I-I forgot to wash your clothes last night.” He admitted as he glanced towards the bathroom sheepishly, and the fond smile on the witcher’s face made his heart flutter like it was a broken-winged butterfly.

“I will go and change at home.”

“Yeah, Uhm, you better do that. No matter how good you look in this T-shirt, I don’t think that ‘Fuck the Police’ is an appropriate quote to wear to wherever you go.” Jaskier chuckled as the man looked over himself and smirked. The brunet didn’t want Geralt to leave. The witcher was kind of unfiltered, and the early hours gave him this sleepy, lazy looseness. The brunet could only imagine how it would be to wake up next to this man in the same bed and watch his cheeky smile while Jaskier rested his head on Geralt’s chest.

That quick domestic image made his skin prickle, and his body heated up. Geralt tilted his head to the side as he studied him, and the brunet immediately remembered how the man could hear his heart and smell his emotions. What a traitorous body he had…

“When can I see you again?” The words were desperate, but Jaskier was far beyond being ashamed of something so trivial like thirst. _Thirst._ How fitting it was because each time he looked into those yellow eyes, he felt like his tongue turned into sandpaper.

“I’ll call you.” Geralt said in his rusty voice, and those three words gave Jaskier such an endorphin rush he couldn’t stop the spreading of goose bumps all over his skin.

“Be careful out there.”

“It’s only paperwork.”

“Yeah, well, each time you are leaving, you always come back bloody and bruised.” Jaskier shrugged shyly, and the mutant’s smug grin was way too charming and had a powerful effect on his weak knees.

“It’s called being a witcher.”

“Alright. Okay. It is really hot, I have to admit that. You being all roughed up, but I don’t think it’s healthy. For my heart. Anyway. Take care of yourself. Please.” Jaskier babbled. He knew he was talking nonsense, but the brunet didn’t have that brain to mouth filter, but judging by the grin on Geralt’s lips, he didn’t mind his frankness.

“Hm.”

Leaving Jaskier’s apartment was harder than he thought it would be. The brunet’s scent was following him all over the musty hallways, and his car was quickly filled with the smell of lavender. He only saw the bleakness of his house after spending so much time in the brunet’s flat. Once again, he was ashamed of how dull his home was. Geralt’s grimace was sour as he dropped his keys and started to pull the borrowed shirt over his head.

“Oh, Geralt, what a welcome, I always forget what a hunk you are my Dear.” Yennefer’s voice rang between the walls like a siren. Her snarky voice made the witcher roll his eyes as the woman walked over the orange, flaming portal and closed it with a flick of her wrist. “Your text seemed awfully determined. I don’t know it was the NOW in all capitals or the seven-hundred exclamation points.”

“It was only two.”

“More than you ever sent me, so allow me to be surprised.” Yen smirked and followed Geralt to the man’s bedroom, watching as the witcher opened his drawer. “Well, I’m here. What do you need?”

“Cidaris.” Geralt said as he shook off the baggy trouser until it pooled around his ankles, and he was standing there naked as the day he was born, and the sorceress let out an impressed little whistle through her red lips.

“Lovely city. The beach is magnificent. Why do you ask? Are you taking the songbird on vacation?” Yennefer smiled, not even trying to hide how her violet eyes wandered all over the strong bare body in front of her.

“Jaskier said he would choose Cidaris University.”

“Oh, you did ask him? How did that went?”

“Not as good as I hoped.” Geralt frowned, and as he pulled some fresh underwear on Yennefer let out a disappointed grunt. “He is worried about the money and…”

“The fact that it’s illegal?” Yen helped him out, and the mutant nodded with his head. “Education should be for free anyway, and it’s not like I would take someone else’s place.”

“I know. I told him.”

“Was the old Jaskier always this honest and virtuous as well?” The mage groaned as the genuine goodness made her stomach flip a tiny bit.

“He was always… decent.” Geralt said, and they shared a quick look before Yennefer pulled a judgemental face, and the mutant turned back to find a top in his wardrobe.

“So? What’s the big plan then? Loverboy said, no, are you going to go behind his back?” The woman’s voice told Geralt that she already knew the answer to that question, but she always enjoyed making him squirm and admit things out loud he was ashamed of.

“He deserves it.”

“You know that if he goes there, you will rarely see him, right?” Yennefer’s voice was soft and considerate, careful even, and she watched as Geralt’s shoulders tensed, and his muscles shifted under his milky skin.

“I haven’t seen him for eight-hundred years, Yen. These weeks were nothing but a miracle for me. Even if I would never see him again, I would be happy.” The witcher muttered, and the sorceress hid her sincere smile when the man looked over his shoulder.

“You were always a sap, Geralt.” The man just snorted and tied up his hair into a messy bun.

“He won’t be that far away anyway. I can always just drive there or use your portals if I’m in a hurry.”

“Oh, sure. Forget it. You will not ring my bell each time when you want to snog your boyfriend.” Geralt’s grin was uncharacteristically wide, and the woman was once again reminded why the man was called the White Wolf.

“Can you help me, Yen?”

“Consider it done. Your ex-bard will start university in September. Just make sure he will be there.”

“Hm.” Geralt hummed low in his throat, and the woman followed him into the kitchen.

“Do you need help with finding a flat as well?” Yennefer smirked as the witcher placed a glass of wine in front of the woman.

“I thought you stopped reading my mind a long time ago.”

“Old habits die hard.”

Jaskier had been composing since Geralt left his flat. The sight of the sleeping witcher or maybe the way how the man cornered him earlier by the fridge and the brunet knew it very well that whatever went through the man’s head at that moment he wanted the same, inspired him. There was nothing Geralt could say or do to him that Jaskier would refuse.

For all these years, his muse was this formless, genderless entity kissing him occasionally and blessing him with inspiration. Still, since he met the silver-haired monster slayer, this obscure figure started to take shape. The muse now had eyes. They were catlike and yellow as amber. This creative influence now felt like arms around his body, pulling him close to a broad chest were he felt safer than ever before.

His songs were always about love and lust and heartbreak. But since Geralt, they were not only written about those feelings, but they were also filled with them. Even Jaskier could feel the change in his lyrics. That small twist in his melodies that made it more real, painful, and so raw.

He wanted to sing it to the witcher. It was ready. It was his best song he has written so far. He wanted to see Geralt’s face when he hears it for the first time. He wanted to see that small patch of redness on the man’s pale cheeks. He wanted to see how his eyes would widen and blink two or three times to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

Jaskier grabbed his phone and texted his muse before thinking about how clingy and desperate he sounded.

**“When can i see u again?”**

There was no answer for a while. Jaskier kept playing on his guitar. Swapping it with his lute and strumming on his ukulele as he walked up and down in his flat until his phone beeped on the glass table.

**“I’m sorry a new job came up. I will be out of the city for a few days.”**

Dejection and sadness quickly nested in his heart as he read Geralt’s answer. How could he already miss someone who just left a few hours ago? Sometimes Jaskier wondered if his feelings towards the witcher were healthy. It all seemed to happen too fast like they were opposite magnets pulling towards each other.

He always thought that falling for someone would be like an earthshattering detonation. One cathartic bomb set up inside his chest that would take away his breath with an explosion, but he never imagined that love was actually a slowly spreading fire. One that has no signs, and if you were unlucky, you would find yourself trapped in a ring of flames without a chance to escape.

**“Be careful”**

He typed back fast, hoping that Geralt still had his phone in his hands, and it didn’t take long to see the tiny bubble pop up on his screen.

**“You too. Good luck for tomorrow.”**

Jaskier’s heart was like a hummingbird inside his chest. It wasn’t the thrill of his upcoming job interview. No. It was the fact that he was doing something as minor as texting with Geralt. Each time when he read the man’s messages with his perfect grammar and proper spelling, it put a foolish smile on his face.

**“i’ll smash it. maybe when u come back u can already visit me in the new bar?”**

**“We can celebrate when you get the job.”**

That last message jumpstarted his imagination. Jaskier was sitting on the side of his bed as he read that and dear Gods, it did plant some ideas into his head. He fell back into his bed, between the soft sheets with his mobile on his chest.

He had some suggestions on how to celebrate. Gods, he wanted to get close to the man. As much as he loved Geralt’s company, the monster hunter was a tease. The first time he saw the witcher, his first thoughts were slightly naughty. One could say that they were downright filthy. He couldn’t help it. His brain immediately focused on the man’s appearance, and there was a lot to look at.

Jaskier could always appreciate the beauty and more exquisite things in life, and now, Geralt was everything he admired and cherished. The witcher was pure perfection. Like he was made in a lab for humans to praise him like a god, yet he was so humble and hidden, no one could get a chance to truly adore him.

Until now.

And fucking hell, Jaskier wanted to adore Geralt all day, every day.

He closed his eyes and let his imagination blossom. He was ashamed to admit, but the witcher was haunting his dreams and nights like an incubus. Jaskier spent countless nights whispering and panting Geralt’s name into his pillow, imagining those strong, calloused hands caressing and worshiping his body.

He imagined how the man would look at him while he lost control… no not lost it but gave it all up for Geralt. How the man would groan his name when Jaskier marked his pale skin with his lips. How Geralt would shiver when he ran his tongue over every single scar all over that dangerous body.

“Fuck.” Jaskier grunted. The voice came out as a low and bitter chuckle. He felt so incredibly dirty. The guilt like a layer of dust stuck to his warm skin, and he couldn’t wash it off no matter how much he scrubbed.

He shouldn’t think about Geralt this way. It wasn't right. He was supposed to be his friend. They should help each other with their demons. Yet here he was trying to imagine how it would feel to run his fingers through that long silky hair. How Geralt’s skin would taste like. How the man would kiss him. Like if Jaskier was the last sip of air before Geralt drowns? Like he was touch starved and hungry for it? Like if Jaskier was the sweetest, sugar-coated dessert?

He wanted to try it all. He wanted Geralt to kiss him so often that Jaskier didn’t have to ask what’s wrong anymore because he would feel it, he would know what the witcher wanted just by how the silver-haired man would hold him and look into his eyes.

This morning. In Jaskier's kitchen. For a second, he thought Geralt would finally, fucking finally cross that line. Gods, Jaskier wanted it. He wanted to have their first kiss and their second and third and their millionth. He wanted to jump into those strong arms every time he saw Geralt. He was sure the witcher could probably carry him with one arm, and that little thought made his toes curl. He wanted to press his lips onto Geralt’s skin until the man laughed and begged him to stop with tears in his eyes.

Could witchers be ticklish?

Fuck. Jaskier wanted to know how it would feel like to fell asleep listening to Geralt’s slow heartbeat. He wanted to know if the witcher’s neck was as sensitive as his was.

“Fuck, Geralt.” Jaskier groaned and stared at his cracked ceiling with stormy blue eyes. Like if his phone was just answering his pleads, it buzzed on his chest, and he checked the new message with a frown.

**“Coast this weekend?”**

“Holy fuck, what?” Jaskier shouted and sat up so fast his old bedframe gave out a miserable creak under him. He read those three words for over ten times until it was carved into his common sense. “Gods, Geralt, you are killing me!” Jaskier laughed aloud and could feel the rapid drumming inside his chest.

**“lemme see if i work this weekend but yesss!! i would love that”**

His fingers ran across his keyboard so fast he wasn’t even sure he was using any known human language.

**“It’s a date then.”**

The noise that came out of Jaskier’s mouth was more like a screech than an actual manly scream. This absolutely lethal monster hunter was shamelessly adorable, and the brunet could not handle him any longer.

A date. _Date._

They had _dates_ before, but they never called them that, and maybe Geralt just used that word as a figure of speech still, Jaskier couldn’t stop himself from wondering.

At that moment, he wanted nothing more than call Essi and rant about the witcher for hours without a stop and let the girl tease him for it. There were moments when he forgot that she was gone. There were moments when he was painfully reminded that she wasn’t just a phone call away. And there were moments like this when it broke Jaskier’s heart that Essi couldn’t be there to celebrate with him. He just wanted to overreact and see his best friend roll her eyes and call him an idiot with a smile on her face.

Jaskier shook his head. The guilt was suffocating. He knew that he should think about the girl more, but it was too hurtful. He felt awful being so excited about his date with Geralt while his subconscious kept telling him that he should still be mourning Essi.

Deep down inside, he knew that Essi would want him to move along with his life. Be happy, celebrate, fall in love, and remember her as she had been: bubbly and full of happiness. But something dark and toxic kept telling him that he didn’t deserve this joy.

Jaskier’s phone buzzed again.

**“Yen told me I should clarify it. It is A date. That is alright?”**

He swore that in that second, he heard Essi’s laugh echo inside his head. In that second, there were no rainclouds big and dark enough that could overshadow the brightness of his laughter.

At that moment, he had a date with Geralt, and nothing was ruining that for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I hope you enjoyed it, even if literally nothing happened in this chapter, but don't worry, we are kind of only halfway through the story :D
> 
> Another thing, please go any give some love to @elviehun who is one of the loveliest person I have ever met! She is truly brilliant and she deserves everything good <3
> 
> See you guys, gals and non-binary pals next time and have a lovely day, 
> 
> Come and find me on twitter @doberainbow
> 
> Kisses<3


	14. Sea Breeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> that date... finally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all thought I was dead, huh?
> 
> Hello lovely people of AO3, 
> 
> I'm back with my longest chapter so far.
> 
> Please please please, give some love to @LadyAhiru who is my wonderful beta💕
> 
> And now the apology. I'm so sorry it took me so long to write this chapter, but my job is so mentally and emotionally exhausting it was hard for me to find a good time to write something that I would proudly show you guys.  
> I would rather write something sloooowly than make something fast that is not "me".  
> I hope some of you are still here, so yeah, I will shut up now, and please enjoy the ride!

Jaskier's new boss was a twat, but he wrapped the older man around his finger so wickedly the man wanted him to start as soon as possible. Going back to bartending without Essi was more challenging than he thought it would be. There wasn't anyone to give _the look_ when people fell through the swinging door at five in the morning. Nobody gave him a high five when he kicked an ice cube under the fridge when he was clumsy and dropped it. Nobody was there to give him the right ingredients without asking for them.

Essi and Jaskier had been a package deal, and they had worked as one person with four arms and an immense amount of sarcasm. When he had reached for something, the blonde girl was already giving it to him. When she had had a clingy customer, someone who mistook good service for flirting, Jaskier was there to shut the person down and take over their order.

He wasn't complaining about the team at the new place. No. They were young. Most of them were students working to help them pay their rent and bills. They were glad Jaskier was someone they didn't need to train and teach the basics, but it wasn't the same as before.

The only thing that kept him going were those phone calls with Geralt before his shift started at the bar. The witcher was away on a hunt, away from the city, and Jaskier shamelessly missed his grumpy face. It was already Friday when the brunet started to prepare for work, and his mobile rang on the small coffee table where he had left it. He would never admit it, but he chose a different ringtone for the silver-haired monster slayer and spent hours trying to find the perfect song that fit Geralt, and each time when he heard the melody filling up his small flat, he was grinning like a lunatic.

"Well, hello there, my favourite witcher, how is hunting?" Jaskier's chirpy, jolly voice was way too sugary even for himself, but when he heard that tiny snort from the other line, he knew that the man liked how annoying he was. Finding someone who appreciates your clinginess was rare, and Jaskier felt blessed.

"Good." That one word made his heart ring like a bell inside him, and he immediately started pacing up and down in his minuscule flat. "How are you?"

"Now I'm good since I heard your lovely voice. When are you coming back?"

"Later on tonight."

"If you are not too tired, then feel free to visit me at the pub." Jaskier knew how desperate he sounded, but he really missed Geralt's sour face. If he wouldn't be so damn proud, he would have asked the witcher to use his camera during their talk, but each time he thought about it, his whole body cringed.

"Hm. I will try."

A short silence fell between them. The brunet was nipping on his bottom lip, and Geralt knew that the young man was trying to ask something, so he let him take the time the bartender needed.

"So. Tomorrow we are…" Jaskier let the question hang in there in the nothingness between them until he heard Geralt's small hum on the other end of the line.

"Having a date." The man finished the Jaskier's sentence, and the brunet had to sit down on the edge of his mattress before he collapsed.

"I don't know about you, but I have a twist in my stomach every single time I think about it."

"Is… that a good sign?" Geralt's adorable worried tone made him chuckle, and Jaskier just wanted to cup his gorgeous face between his palms and kiss him until his confused frown disappears.

"Yes, it is. A very good sign. I-It may sound weird, but I've never been on a real date before."

"That makes two of us"

Jaskier's grin widened, and he felt like he won an award. He didn't know if it was the fact that he was the first in Geralt's immortal life that he cared enough for, to take out on a date, or the fact that they were both clueless idiots, but either way. He felt special in a way he never thought he would.

"I couldn't. After he I… and I never thought I will meet someone like you, ever again." Geralt's words were rough and rushed. Mumbled by his suppressed emotions, but Jaskier heard and understood him easily. He understood everything. Even those things Geralt couldn't say out loud yet.

"Well… I have to go to work." Jaskier didn't want to hang up. He wanted to listen to the witcher's voice. As deep and rusty as it sounded, it was somewhat calming, like the raindrops' sound on a metal windowsill.

The brunet sometimes wondered if Geralt ever sang or hummed when he was alone. Maybe while he was driving. He didn't look like someone who would whistle, no. But the brunet could imagine the mutant just singing softly under his breath without even realising that he was doing it. Jaskier was sure it would be the loveliest sound his ears would ever be blessed with.

"See you soon?" He asked, and the longing was thick in his voice.

"Hm."

"Drive safely, please. There are too many crazy people on the road."

"You know I kill monsters for a living, right?" Geralt asked back, and yes, Jaskier heard the mirth in his voice, he knew that the witcher was smirking, but he also knew that it felt good when someone cared about you. Even if it was something as trivial as 'drive safely'.

"Alright, tough-guy." He laughed, and when he closed his eyes, Jaskier saw Geralt's gentle smile in his mind. That smile that took over his whole face, reaching his eyes, and made those amber gems really shine and softened his handsome features. The brunet fell for that smile. Hard, and blindly, and each time the witcher curled up his lips in that genuine way, he fell deeper.

"Take care, Geralt."

"You too."

Geralt hang up the phone. He always did. If it were up to Jaskier, he would just sit there and listen to the other man breathe through the small microphone or worse, start talking about some nonsense.

When he had been growing up, he couldn't handle his ADHD. In the orphanage, no one cared that he needed help. Everyone just assumed that he was a bad kid who needed some extreme parenting and discipline. They would often reminded him that he would get easier adopted if he would behave like a well-mannered child. He sometimes had gotten close to be chosen by a family. He had tried to control his brain's speed and inability to pay attention for a short amount of time while those couples were with him.

He behaved.

And when he couldn't hold it back anymore, when the reins of his own sickness slipped out of his hands, his almost-parents ran as fast as they could. Papers were shredded. Promises were broken. Doors were slammed in his face, and Jaskier had been asked to go back to his room.

It only took one nosy teacher in his high school who actually cared about students, and ten minutes with the school's psychologist and Jaskier had finally been diagnosed with ADHD. The liberating feeling that took over him kept him up at nights when he thought about it. The feeling that you were not a freak, not something bad and rotten, you just had a brain that works in a different way, like if he had and extra gear in his head that made him think faster, was truly freeing.

It was easier to control it after that. Knowing what caused his problems was like fighting with a well-known enemy. It made his life simple. He turned to music. He found out that music was the only thing that could occupy his brain long enough to make progress. His ADHD made him jump from instruments to instruments. He was the only member of the school's band who could play everything they had in the storage room.

And Gods, did he love music. It was like finally reaching an itch that had bothered him for years.

The way to his new job only took him thirty minutes. The earlier starters were already setting up the bar. Cutting fruits for decorations, topping up the fridges, and doing some fast last-minute cleaning. They were friendly people, yet Jaskier somehow felt like an outsider. No matter how hard he tried to be part of the jokes and conversation, he found himself thinking about Geralt.

He was getting obsessed. It scared him how much he cared about the silver-haired man. He found his eyes wander to the door each time someone pulled it open, and he forced a fake smile on his face when the person who stepped in wasn't Geralt.

His shift was going rapidly. They were getting busier towards the weekend. Jaskier already made friends with some of their regulars. He was charming and fast enough for people to like him. He was probably earning most of the tips out of all of his colleagues. He grinned and joked and winked, and yet, he had that churning sadness in his stomach each time someone walked in the pub, and it wasn't the brooding monster hunter.

"Someone is looking at the door a lot. Who are you waiting for?" It was Aleks, one of the bartenders. A tall, dark-haired girl. Jaskier liked her the most. She had been the one showing him around on his first day, and she was the one who kept an eye on everyone, ready to step into an argument with a customer if it was needed.

"A friend said he may come by tonight." Jaskier grinned at her while he poured some sugar syrup into a cocktail.

"A friend, huh?" Aleks asked with an arched eyebrow, and the brunet felt his cheeks get warmer.

"Well. Sort of. He is just a friend, for now."

"Then I hope he comes along because you look like a sad puppy. Go have a break, have some fresh air. I will serve that table."

Aleks was a goddess. Jaskier planted a kiss on her pale cheeks and took off his apron, tugging it under the till where the customers couldn't see it. The back door they used for the delivery led to a narrow alley. The air was crisp outside, and Jaskier slouched down to that one crooked chair that his colleagues used for their cigarette breaks. It was getting late.

He really thought Geralt would come and just walk in with that irresistible smirk of his, and he would have to hold onto the counter to keep himself up straight. Jaskier wasn't angry at Geralt. No. He blamed himself for being so miserable without the man.

The witcher only just finished a hunt. He was probably exhausted and sore, and still, the brunet wanted Geralt to drag himself here so he could feed that monster in his chest that kept on begging for the mutant.

"I'm so bloody selfish." Jaskier groaned and dropped his head back against the brick wall.

"And why is that?" The low voice came from the street, and the brunet nearly fell out of the chair when the dark figure, illuminated from the back by cars and neon signs, appeared just a few metres away from him. The voice was gravelly and a tad bit cheeky, just enough to make Jaskier's heart beat faster under his ribs.

Geralt stood there with his hands in his jacket's pockets like a fucking model who just stepped off a billboard.

"Fuck, Geralt, don't sneak up on me like that." The bartender yelped, and the man walked closer with a soft chuckle.

"And here I was, thinking that you would be happy to see me." Geralt said in that husky voice of his, and Jaskier was already out of his chair walking towards the witcher hastily. Finally, he was close enough to not only see the silhouette but Geralt's pale face as well, and those beaming golden eyes.

"I am."

Jaskier wanted to run, take a leap, wrap his arms around Geralt and kiss him until they were gasping for air.

But he didn't.

He just stood there and stared, unable to take his eyes off the man in front of him. Geralt's hair was in a high ponytail, but some strands had escaped and fell into his face. Jaskier wanted to brush them away, feel how soft those silver locks would be between his fingers. He didn't have any visible bruises, nor was he covered in blood.

Jaskier sighed with a smile. He didn't know he was holding back that sigh since he had seen the man last time.

"I know you promised you would come, but I didn't think you would really show up. Especially right after you just got back." Jaskier gave a sheepish smile and looked away when Geralt's face got that surprised little twist.

"You promised me a drink."

"Oh yeah. Sure. Who would say no to a free drink, right?" Jaskier joked, but both of them felt that it wasn't sincere.

The brunet felt that awful sting in his chest. That feeling when you had high hopes only to find yourself on the ground in the mud. He knew he was overly dramatic, but he couldn't help it. He didn't even realise when the witcher stepped closer. He only looked up when he felt a cold, calloused palm over his cheek, and found Geralt standing so close he felt his warm breath come out in short, rapid pants.

"I missed you."

Those three words were whispered, yet they rang in Jaskier's head like gunshots. He looked into Geralt's amber eyes. Frankly, he looked like a wolf in the darkness of a forest, hunting its prey. Only one look at the man could take his breath away, and the young man was so goddamn lost.

How could someone so deadly look so vulnerable?

Geralt, at that second, was offering everything he had. He was so open, and it really did scare him. Not the thought that Jaskier would betray him, but the fact that he had offered his heart to a human once again.

"I missed you too." Jaskier chuckled and turned his head to press a chaste kiss into Geralt's palm. He didn't miss the way the mutant's pupils dilated, and lips fell apart as he inhaled sharply.

For a few seconds, Jaskier thought that he was going to be eaten alive by the witcher in this dim alley judging by the way Geralt stared at him.

And he loved that idea.

He wanted the monster hunter to step closer and claim his lips. He wanted to feel Geralt's sharp teeth along his delicate flesh. He wanted to know how those strong, lethal hands would feel when they were holding him, or Gods forbid, lifting him up.

Jaskier's knees wobbled, and he was sure the witcher knew what lewd images filled his head because Geralt stepped away, cleared his throat, and gave a bit of time for the brunet to gather the remains of his dignity.

"Well then, we should go in. I'm afraid you need to use the front entrance, but I uhm, I will see you inside?" Jaskier wanted to step into his own mouth. He was a sweet-talker, he was charming and confident, yet near Geralt, he was a stuttering fool with zero charisma.

The witcher walked away with a grin, and Jaskier ran inside the pub as if he was chased. Aleks raised her eyebrows when the brunet literally skipped into the bar and tied his apron over his waist while trying to hide his smirk.

"You are in a good mood so suddenly. What happened?" The girl asked, and in that exact moment, the door swung open, Geralt walked in and immediately found Jaskier with his yellow eyes who waved awkwardly at the mutant.

"Oh, hello. I see it now. That mysterious friend, huh?" She laughed and patted Jaskier on his back as she passed behind him and grabbed two ciders from the fridge.

Geralt walked over to the bar and sat down on one of the stools. He was so bloody handsome, and the way he looked at Jaskier made the brunet awfully smug.

Yes.

This fine piece of specimen came to see him, him, and no one else. And the brunet loved how quiet the pub became. He loved how everyone openly stared at Geralt, and he loved how unbothered the witcher was.

"What can I get for you?"

"Would it be terribly cliché if I say surprise me?" Geralt asked as he looked up to read through the menu boards above the army of bottles and glasses and concluded that he has no idea what half of those drinks even were.

"Cliché? You? My Darling that could never happen." Jaskier grinned and saw how Geralt's eyes turned feral when he used that term of endearment. He made a little mental note to use more pet names in the future while he reached for a chilled glass. "You look like someone who enjoys beer and denies to have a sweet tooth." Jaskier jabbered, and the witcher snorted.

"I never denied it. People just assume things about me."

"Oh sure, Mr. Cold and Frowny." Jaskier's hands easily found the bottles without looking at the speed rack where the drinks stood. Geralt watched as those talented, long fingers wrapped over the neck of the bottle, and for a few seconds, his imagination wandered somewhere dark, and he wasn't proud of what he found there. Well, even if he wasn't thirsty before, now his mouth was as dry as a desert. "So this is one part lager, one part cider, and some blackcurrant juice. Bittersweet, just like you. Enjoy, Dear." Jaskier grinned like he knew what the mutant was thinking about, and placed the pint in front of the witcher. Geralt raised one of his silver eyebrows as he looked at the dark, magenta drink.

It smelled amazing. Nearly as good as Jaskier himself. The young bartender's scent was overpowering the smell of chips and ale. He was the brightest light in the pub, and he was only shining for Geralt. It made the witcher's heart flutter like it was a broken winged butterfly.

Of course, the drink was delicious, and Jaskier knew it because he had that corky little curl at the corners of his lips.

It was so soothing to watch the young man work. It was Friday night, and the bar was busy, but Jaskier had the time, every few minutes to come over and chat with Geralt or send him a smile from across the room. He looked good behind the bar. His pale hands were mesmerizing as he grabbed bottle after bottle, as he prepared the cocktails and walked around with a tray and that tightly wrapped apron.

Fuck…

Geralt watched as Jaskier pranced around and in between the tables. He saw those looks that were following the brunet's every step, and he felt so honoured. All these people lusted after the brunet, and yet Jaskier always came back to him. He touched Geralt's shoulders each time he walked behind him. When he reached for the witcher's empty glass, his fingers lingered long enough on the mutant's skin to let him know it wasn't just an accident. Geralt often found Jaskier already looking at him when he lifted his gaze up to the young man.

He used to be so bothered by it. Strangers gawking at Jaskier, being too handy with the bard. It used to make his blood boil. It took him years to realise that the poet didn't need his help, and he could handle any unwelcomed attention effortlessly, but still smiled fondly when Geralt stood behind him and glared murderously at the creeps.

It was the same now as well. No matter how rude someone was, they couldn't escape Jaskier's charm. They all ended up being mesmerized by those shining cornflower-blue eyes and cheeky smile.

The brunet kept making him cocktails, and each time he walked away when Geralt tried to pay. All of them were suspiciously delicious, and it was going into the witcher's head. He could feel his eyelids getting heavier, his cheeks were probably rosy, and he actually started to enjoy the music blasting through the speakers.

Of course, Jaskier made fun of him when he caught Geralt tapping his leg to the rhythm, and promised that he would take him to a club one day.

It was a mistake because as soon as the brunet said those words, the witcher's mind was already there. He had been in some clubs before while he hunted. Many monsters preferred preying on people in crowds, and intoxicated young adults in clubs were an easy target.

He saw how couples were wrapped in each other's arms. He saw how bodies moved together, morphing into one pulsing flesh. He smelled the lust and sex in the air, and until this point, he never thought it would look tempting.

But now…

He could imagine how Jaskier's narrow waist would feel under his palm, how his hipbones would curve into his flesh, how his back would arch when Geralt pulled him closer. How he would be covered in Jaskier's flowery scent. How the brunet would look like in those colourful neon lights. How he would sing along and throw his head back, and Geralt could shamelessly stare at his long neck or even kiss him there, and see what happened. Leave his mark on that milky skin.

"You are miles away, Handsome, what happened?" Jaskier's voice dragged him out of that vison, and he met those impossibly blue eyes and a shit-eating grin.

"Just thinking."

"Care to fill me in?"

"I was thinking about tomorrow. Our date." Geralt, of course, was lying, but as soon as he said those words, Jaskier face turned into a lovely shade of pink, and he started wiping his hand onto his tightly tied apron. Geralt, for a second, imagined him in that apron.

Only in that apron.

"Yeah, I uhm, I thought about it a lot this week as well."

"I thought you could sleep at mine tonight so we can leave early tomorrow."

Jaskier's fingers slipped on the cold, wet glass, and it bounced on the counter in front of him with a loud thump.

Sleeping at Geralt's house sounded innocent, but the brunet's brain was far from being pure and childlike. His mind ran a hundred miles an hour, and he couldn't catch up with his naughty thoughts.

Geralt must have seen the shock on his face, or maybe heard how his pulse quickened because he was instantly frowning like someone who knew they said something wrong and wished to yank back those words in his mouth and turn back time.

"I, of course, would sleep on the sofa, and you can take the bed." He explained in that scratchy voice of his, and Jaskier's astonished face and parted lips turned into a mischievous little smirk.

"I caught a glimpse of your bed once, Geralt, and it looked huge and empty. It would be such a waste to sleep there all by myself, don't you think?"

Jaskier knew he had broken the man as soon as he raised up his eyebrows innocently, and the witcher fought to find the answer to that question for a few moments, but he seemed to be absolutely tongue-tied. Geralt hid his failed attempt of keeping a straight face behind his cup as he took a large sip of his drink while Jaskier walked away with a chuckle and that tiny sway in his hips.

The night went on, and the bartender couldn't wipe that grin off his face. Each time he walked over to the silver-haired man, Geralt seemed to avoid eye contact and glared at his glass, and Jaskier knew that he was a cheeky bastard for enjoying it so much. His colleagues sent him questioning looks paired up with winks, and some pointy elbows dug into his side when he lingered a little bit too long around the monster hunter. But who could blame him for that?

There wasn't a single soul in this bar who didn't stare at Geralt as if he was a slice of cake on a plate. There wasn't any guilt in the air from all that staring, just pure lust, and Jaskier wanted to bask in the glory of being the one who would go home with the stunning man.

Going home with Geralt. Sharing a bed with Geralt.

Jaskier couldn't stop himself, and he checked the time way too repeatedly and prayed in his head that the drunken customers would make a beeline to the door and call it a night soon. It was around three in the morning when the last man stumbled out of the bar, and the pub was silent. It was just Jaskier, Geralt and Aleks left. The brunet gathered the empty glasses from the tables, ready to start the cleaning before the girl stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Just go, I will finish this up."

"What? Absolutely not. I will-"

"Just go, you are absolutely useless since your man walked in. Go and have a good night!" Aleks laughed loudly and pushed Jaskier through the small swinging door. "Go before I change my mind."

The brunet gaped like a fish and looked behind himself, seeing Geralt lurk in a dark corner with his leather jacket in his hand, acting like he didn't hear Aleks referring to him as 'Jaskier's man'.

"Well, how could I say no to that? Thank you, Dearest." The young man pressed a kiss to Aleks's snow-white cheek and ran to grab his bag from the office. His steps were hurried and loud in the quiet building. He skipped out of the room and looked at Geralt, who was already watching him with soft, golden eyes. Jaskier smiled back, and without looking away from the witcher, he opened his mouth.

"Oh, and Aleks, Geralt is not my man. Not yet."

The effect was immediate. Aleks laughed and shook her head as she started counting the till. Jaskier quirked a challenging eyebrow at the mutant and tilted his head to the side. And Geralt… well Geralt looked like a wolf trying to break its chains, ready to lash out and rip him apart, and boy, Jaskier did want the Witcher to ruin him.

The brunet was buzzing in the passenger seat. He couldn't stop glancing over at Geralt while babbling about his week and looking at that gentle smile on the witcher's lip. He was grateful for the seatbelt to keep him on his bottom. Otherwise, he would have climbed onto Geralt's lap.

"You look good. I mean, you always look good, which is utterly unfair, but I meant that you aren't covered in dried blood and scars this time. Easy hunt?"

Geralt knew it very well that he didn't tell the entire truth to Jaskier about his week, but he wanted it to be a surprise, so he decided to play along with the lie.

"Child's play."

"I'm glad to hear that." Jaskier smiled and bit into his bottom lip when Geralt started the engine of his car. There was something about a man driving that was so oddly sexy, and the witcher wasn't any exception. Jaskier didn't even have a lick of alcohol, and still, he felt so light-headed. He watched as Geralt grabbed the steering wheel and looked into the mirror and bloody hell, the brunet wanted to drag him onto the backseat and put his mouth on that alabaster skin.

"Are you good to drive? You’ve had a few drinks." He said, and while he wanted to be the voice of reason, he was practically drooling at the sight of Geralt's strong legs wrapped in tight jeans.

"My metabolism is faster than humans. I am completely sober." The witcher explained with a faint smile, and indeed, in the last hour, he only had water with ice, and his mutation already ate up the dizziness that came with consuming alcohol.

Jaskier let out an impressed hum and let his head fall against the cushion while he kept his eyes on the witcher as they drove to his flat.

Geralt was standing by the door while Jaskier packed his bag and talked about his new colleagues without missing a beat. The man just silently watched as the young bartender folded his clothes and carefully squeezed them into his pack. The scene was so familiar yet so different.

The mutant lived a simple life. When he needed to move, he got ready in the speed of light until he had met a certain brunet troubadour, and his life had drastically changed. He probably spent hours on a weekly basis just waiting around by different doors while the poet carefully folded his clothes. Wiped down his boots. Combed his hair. Dressed like he was going to a ball, even if they were heading to a dusty tiny village.

Geralt adapted quickly. He slept in and let Jaskier walk around on his tiptoes in their shared room as he got ready. After years of travelling together, he somehow started to enjoy the sound of his bard's feet on the hardwood floor. He liked waking up to the smell of Jaskier's perfumes, seeing the bardling by the mirror fixing his thick hair, and sending him a gleaming smile when he caught the reflection of Geralt's sleepy, amber eyes.

"Good Morning, my Dear Witcher."

Every morning started the same, with an affectionate pet name, soft, bright blue eyes, and lavender scent.

Geralt missed it, and now as he watched the excited bartender turn around, swinging his backpack over his shoulder, and grinning at him with a small 'I'm ready', the witcher felt his stomach twist and turn. He needed a second just to look at the man in front of him.

It wasn't some old, dimly lit tavern. It was a small studio flat with modern furnishing, and Jaskier wasn't wearing his puffy-sleeved doublet but a button-up shirt, which wasn't really buttoned all the way, only until the middle of his chest, yet it all felt so similar.

Geralt's heart was hammering like a wild bull in his chest as the brunet walked to him and spun his keys on his fingers.

"Ready?"

"Hm."

And he really was ready for whatever would come as long as Jaskier was there with him.

Jaskier knew it very well that he was walking on thin ice, and it was cracking and creaking under his feet. Geralt was hurt and scarred from the memories of his past, and Jaskier tried not to push the man out of his comfort zone, but all he wanted was to show so much tenderness and desire that the witcher would feel like it was raining on him.

He had never been so bewitched by anyone before. Jaskier was proud of giving a tremendous amount of love to everyone he ever met. He was like a lost puppy looking for love. Maybe it came from him being an orphan, or it was just his personality. He never really dug deeper to determine where his addiction to give love and being adored came from. But he knew one thing. He never met a person who deserved every drop of fondness as much as Geralt did. The man acted like a stray dog who never been loved by a human before. Always on edge. Trying to keep a distance. Painfully lonely. Jaskier wanted to end this. Wrap him in his arms, and show him how much the witcher can be loved.

Geralt's house was just as depressing as always, and it made him smile. He couldn't imagine the white-haired man to live in a warm, colourful, and welcoming place. This beyond minimalistic, nearly empty house suited him, and he could imagine himself here.

Moving in, and slowly changing some teeny-weeny things. He knew that Geralt would immediately notice everything new. A small pot with a cactus on the windowsill. A heart-shaped pillow on the leather couch. A tea towel with some red dots on it. He knew he would get away with it, and maybe Geralt would smile and brush his fingers through every miniscule and utterly useless thing Jaskier would bring into their home.

Their home. It sounded frighteningly good.

He never even kissed the man, but he was already daydreaming about moving in with him. He was the definition of 'living in the future'. A future that may never happen, but fuck if he wouldn't give everything to make his dreams come true.

"Can I take a shower? Is that alright? I kind of smell like the cheap alcohol we sell as a top-shelf drink." Jaskier grinned as he placed his bag on the kitchen table. When he turned around and saw Geralt still standing in the living room looking at him, he couldn't help but smile and pop his hands on his hips. "What?" He asked and tilted his head to the side, letting his fluffy hair fall across his forehead.

The witcher blinked. Amber eyes zeroed on a young face then quickly travelled down onto narrow hips and caressed the brunet's mile-long legs. Geralt cleared his throat and marched into the kitchen.

"You will find some clean towels in the cupboard." He muttered and turned his back to Jaskier as he opened his fridge. He actually went grocery shopping, something he never really did because Yen told him he can't have a guest over if his house doesn't even have some crumbs of biscuits in it. He looked over the chilled food, having absolutely no idea where to even start. Shame made him grind his teeth together.

Here he was, centuries-old yet clueless how to cook. He could probably put together a bacon butty or something equally simple. It wasn't like catching some poor animal and roast it over the campfire. He needed the correct amount of seasoning, it needed to look appetising, and he had no idea how to achieve that.

"Are you alright, Geralt?" Jaskier's concerned, gentle voice came from just behind him. The brunet's warm palm slid onto the small of the witcher's back, and the man forgot how to breathe for a second.

"I don't know how to-" The mutant bit into his tongue and turned around fast, shutting the fridge behind him. "I will order some food." He said it like it was a command, and it took some time for Jaskier to put two and two together.

"Don't be silly. With a full fridge like that? Nonsense." He grinned, as if the Witcher wasn't probably the deadliest person he had ever met, he pushed the man gently to the side, with a small shove of his hips, and looked inside the fridge. "Did you buy all of this because I was coming over?"

Jaskier's voice was so full of gratitude that Geralt couldn't bear the amazed look on the young man's face. The witcher shrugged and averted his eyes towards the fully stocked shelves in the fridge. The brunets smile grew wider, nearly reaching both of his ears as he saw Geralt being flustered.

"Well then, let's cook first. What do you say about a stir fry? Something simple with lots of veggies. I am not a master chef, so don't get your hope up but-"

"It's perfect." Geralt interrupted Jaskier's babbling, and the brunet forgot to close his mouth when he heard those words. It nearly sounded like if the mutant wanted to say something else. Something like 'You're perfect'. Or maybe Jaskier just imagined things. But when the silver-haired man smiled at him, and it reached those amber eyes, the young man had to restrain himself from a loud groan. He decided to simply nod and started to go through cabinets and drawers. He washed his hands and winked at Geralt.

Jaskier was a bossy cook. Of course, he was. He was a bossy everything, Geralt had long learned that. He wasn't demanding rudely, it was rather adorable how he ordered the Witcher around his own kitchen. Geralt loved how Jaskier held his hand and showed him the right way to cut aubergines and courgettes in perfect square shapes. He also noticed how the brunet kept stealing looks when he thought the mutant couldn't see him. Or how the young man stood so close to Geralt that their arms were touching.

Geralt loved every second of it. He could imagine them preparing dinner together every night. Like how they used to but in this modern setting. He could come home to this, wrap his arms around Jaskier's waist, and finish the cooking while the brunet just chatted about his day.

The witcher tried to remember this night, so when it's over, he could re-live it over and over again. How Jaskier stared at him while Geralt took the first bite and grinned so freely when the mutant complimented the food. How Jaskier ate so slowly because he was busy with storytelling, and the witcher sometimes had to remind him that his food was getting cold.

Geralt gathered the dishes and pushed Jaskier into the bathroom, while the brunet still jabbered about his customers until the door was shut behind him.

The mutant physically had to push himself away from the bathroom when he heard Jaskier getting undressed in there.

Seeing the poet prance around him in very little clothing was a daily routine for him. Back in those old ages, people were less squeamish about being bare in front of others. He often shared his bath with the troubadour or got some help from him when he was injured. He could probably draw a picture of Jaskier's naked body if he were talented with a pencil because he saw that pale-skinned, lithe figure countless times.

But back then, it was different. At first. It took him years and years to realise that his golden eyes lingered on Jaskier's legs, maybe a little bit too long to call it 'checking up on your travelling companion'. He couldn't pinpoint it when it had been the first time that he had started to appreciate the bard's talented fingers or how his hair shined in the sunlight.

It wasn't like getting hit by a train. No. It wasn't something that one day just hit him with full force. It was like a slowly lurking feeling that sneaked up on him without noticing. It took months, even years until he was genuinely mesmerised by everything Jaskier did or was. And from that on, there was no turning back.

He couldn't look at the musician like he did before. He couldn't ignore his closeness or flowery scent as he did before. He couldn't just look away with an eye-roll when Jaskier returned into his room with a stranger like he did before. He couldn't pretend that he didn't hear the poet moan and grunt through the walls. He couldn't pretend that it didn't bother him. He couldn't pretend that he didn't want to be the person who made Jaskier tremble and mutter praises from pleasure.

And now, he couldn't pretend that all those years of yearning and craving could end tonight.

Geralt wasn't oblivious. He could smell the lust on Jaskier each time he met the brunet. He could hear the flutter in his heartbeat when their gazes met. He knew it very well what the young man was thinking about when he stared at the witcher and forgot to close his mouth.

And fuckin' hell, it was difficult to control his hunger.

But he couldn't let himself slip. He could not taste Jaskier's lips if the brunet was still a mortal man. So fragile and frail. So… short-lived and temporary.

"Fuck Yen, hurry up!"

Jaskier, in the meantime, was busy snooping around. Like the rest of the house, Geralt's bathroom was immaculate, and the brunet took his time. He opened the drawers, brushed his fingers through the soft towels, found out that Geralt bought hair bands in huge portions, and that he had his unscented shampoos and body washes in glass jars. Also, the witcher had brilliant water pressure, and Jaskier was ready to move out from his terrible, wee flat.

Jaskier was confident in his body. He wasn't built like a whole unit like Geralt was, but he was relatively tall and toned where he needed to be. Years and years of playing on various instruments for hours every single day built some muscles in his arms and shoulders, and bartending was just helping him getting broader. Yet, people often underestimated him and his physique because of his boyish features, causing little surprises in the bedroom once he took off his clothing.

Well, that would not happen with Geralt.

Next to the monster hunter, he felt like such a twig. Something that the witcher could snap in half with one glare, and let's be honest, it did things to Jaskier's heart.

The fact that Geralt could easily push and manhandle him around was one of his favourite things to think about during the day. He was sure it would take some time for the witcher to believe that Jaskier wouldn’t break. Maybe some encouragement would be needed as well, but dear Gods, the thoughts of Geralt letting loose made his knees weak.

The brunet looked into the foggy mirror. His skin had turned into a light shade of pink from the heat, his hair was damp and chaotic, and the t-shirt he packed and chose to wear was just big enough to show some collarbone and shoulders.

He looked positively fuckable.

He didn't particularly plan to seduce Geralt tonight, no. But it wouldn't hurt either of them if the witcher saw how big of a tease Jaskier could be.

Geralt was preparing the bed, and he needed to sit down for a moment because his hands were shaking. He couldn't stop the trembling of his fingers no matter how hard he glared at his hands, his body was protesting.

He heard the water stop in the bathroom and the soft noise of Jaskier's bare, wet feet on the floor walking around. Geralt's heart was beating in his throat. He clenched his jaw so hard it gave him a headache.

He didn't doubt his feelings towards Jaskier anymore. It was just his body. Each time the brunet stood too close or looked at him in a certain way, Geralt's body's response was fight or flight.

In a few seconds, he could jump back in time and be like that soulless wreckage he had been after the poet had died. He could not shake off the past, and the harder he tried to run away from it, the faster it caught up with him.

The witcher closed his eyes and breathed in and out slowly. Dragging the oxygen out of his lungs, trying to control his senses and raging heart. He didn't even hear the brunet walk into the bedroom until Jaskier sat beside him on the bed.

"Hey, are you alright?"

The brunet's body was radiating heat from the shower. Even if they were too far away to touch, Geralt could feel Jaskier's warmth. A shiver ran across his spine as he looked into those bottomless blue oceans.

"Please don't feel the pressure to do anything you are not comfortable with. We don't have to go anywhere if you-"

"I want to." Geralt interrupted him and reached to hold Jaskier's hand only to change his mind and clench his fist in his lap. The brunet caught the tiny, nervous movement, and he made a quick decision.

If Geralt wanted to hold his hand, he would meet the man halfway. If Geralt needed him to be there, but could not ask for it, Jaskier would read the man as much as the Witcher let him and give his best.

"Talk to me." The brunet asked and waited until Geralt didn't look like he was re-living a nightmare. Until his breath wasn't shaky and short. Until the witcher looked into his eyes and saw him, not the memories of someone who died.

"I'm not good with words. Never was. But there is no other place I would rather be than here next to you. Even if it looks like I'm-"

Geralt couldn't finish his sentence, and maybe it was for the best because he honestly had no idea what he planned to say. Jaskier didn't let him finish.

The brunet leaned over. One hand still holding Geralt's cooler fingers in his soft grip. His other palm slid onto the silver-haired man's sharp jawline. The stubble was scratchy under Jaskier's fingers, and it made him tremble, but there was no turning back now. He leaned in and pressed his lips onto the right corner of Geralt's full lips.

It was too humble and shy to call it a kiss. It was a quick peck, but just enough to light both of their bodies on fire. It was like the first bite from a dessert. Licking off whipped cream of a cake. Stealing a taste and giving a promise. A promise that Jaskier had no intention of backing up upon. He was ready to grab everything Geralt could possibly throw at him.

Someone pulled the plug on Geralt's body because his system was shutting down like a smoking computer.

Jaskier's lips were so incredibly soft on his skin; it felt like a butterfly had landed on him. The witcher's nose was immediately filled with that sweet, sugar-coated lavender scent. The feeling of Jaskier's blunt nails on his cheek made Geralt groan, and his eyelids shut without him noticing.

The brunet pulled back with a giggle. Maybe it was the sound that left Geralt's throat or the way he tried to chase the feeling of Jaskier's lips on him that made him laugh.

"You came into my life when I lost the most important person I have ever had, and so soon you became… became someone I don't want to ever lose. I feel like, and it is so damn cliché to say, but someone I knew my whole life."

Jaskier's words hit him. They were like daggers into his heart. Here he was, honest and wearing his heart on his sleeve as always, and Geralt was lying to him, so blatantly, it made him sick in the stomach. He lied about his own past. He lied about their history. And he didn't know if he would ever be able to tell the full truth to Jaskier. Even if the brunet was looking at him as if Geralt was his whole world.

It broke the remaining pieces of his already shattered heart.

"Well, now that I made everything rather awkward, we should go to bed." Jaskier smiled and stood up to walk over to the other side of the bed, leaving Geralt shell-shocked. "Are you a little spoon or a big spoon? Because I'm a cuddler and don't even try to deny it that you're not. Everyone likes to snuggle up. So? You look like a big spoon who wants to be the little one. I'm good either way."

The brunet's mumble was lost in the air between them. Geralt noted that those words were directed towards him, but he only vaguely paid attention. Jaskier just kissed him and acted like it wasn't what the witcher was dreaming about for centuries. The brunet looked so goddamn arousing Geralt had trouble with breathing.

The damp, messy hair. The rosy cheeks with his intense, shimmering eyes. Those wicked lips and how his shirt was sliding off his left shoulder drove the mutant absolutely mad. He wanted to ravish the young man. Worship him. Take him apart and put him back together.

Jaskier was lucky that Geralt was too stunned to move.

The witcher cleaned his throat and shook himself out of the trance-like state he was in as he stood up and turned to face Jaskier.

"Big spoon."

Geralt's voice was husky, and he didn't miss the way Jaskier's lips fell open, and the brunet heartbeat quickened up.

As soon as the young man was horizontal and the lights were off, he completely melted into Geralt's bed. The mattress was hard, but in a brilliantly comfortable way, and it smelled like the witcher. Pine needles and fresh air. Jaskier was walking on cloud nine. He turned his head to the side to try and see the man next to him. Geralt was on his side and already watching him.

His yellow eyes were shining in the darkness. They were like small bickering lights, and Jaskier was mesmerised by them.

"How good can you see in the dark?" He whispered as he turned to his side, copying the position Geralt was lying in.

"I can see you blushing." The witcher muttered with a smirk, and Jaskier pulled up the blanket to cover his face with a snort.

"It would be creepy if it wouldn't be this hot."

It was Geralt's time to laugh, and he moved a tiny bit closer to the other. Jaskier breath hitched in his throat, and he immediately had that broad grin on his face while he squirmed closer to the witcher.

"Big spoon, huh?" He asked, and Geralt just shrugged with a smile. The brunet turned on his other side with a giggle and let the mutant pull him to his chest.

Of course, they fit perfectly together like puzzle pieces. Geralt's bigger frame wrapped around his back like a smooth, but toned shell. He hooked one arm under Jaskier's hand and over his chest. Their legs touched and tangled together. The witcher's colder skin was heating up from the brunet's smaller figure. Geralt buried his nose into those thick, dark locks, making the younger man tremble from the sensation.

Fuck, he missed this.

He learned quite fast that the poet was a restless sleeper. Once Geralt was so exhausted after a hunt, and of course, they had no spare coins to book separate rooms or even two beds, they ended up sharing the smallest and most uncomfortable plank they ever had the luck to lay on. Jaskier was moaning and complaining endlessly. He grunted each time he twisted his body and butted elbows with the monster hunter. Geralt's patience vanished when the bard's low whine woke him up just after he finally drifted off.

_"Geraaalt, I can't feel my hipbones." Jaskier's voice was too loud for this late hour, and the witcher had enough._

_"Shut the fuck up, and go to sleep, bard!"_

_"I can't. The room smells like black mould. I'm starving and cold. And this bed, if we can call this a bed is just-"_

_Geralt didn't let him finish. He heard enough. He had had enough. He threw an arm over Jaskier's small waist and pulled him closer until their bodies touched, and the poet was too startled to make any sound. The troubadour was facing the witcher. His arms were trapped between their naked chests. Geralt chin came and rested on the top of Jaskier's head. He threw one heavy leg over the bard's thighs to pin him further down._

_Jaskier couldn't move a muscle._

_"Geralt?" The muffled sound rumbled through the witcher's chest. Geralt didn't bother with answering. He grunted something unintelligible and was ready to leave it that." A-are you going to let me go or…"_

_"Stop. Talking."_

_"I'm not complaining, don't get me wrong. You smell like the forest, and you are kind of warm it's just-"_

_"You have three seconds to shut up, Jaskier!" Geralt literally snarled and felt how the bard shivered in his arms. It wasn't out of fear. He could smell the stench of worry from miles away. No. It was from something else he was too tired to investigate. He just enjoyed how Jaskier finally relaxed in his hold, moved a little bit closer until the point where they were touching from their head to their toes, and shut his eyes. How did Geralt know that? Because the bard's eyelashes caressed his scarred skin like they were some feathers teasing him._

_Geralt didn't have the mental capacity to unpack all of that. To understand why this felt so right on so many levels, or how his body got warmer not from Jaskier, but from the inside. The heat started from his chest and crashed over him in waves._

_The witcher let the feeling linger and blamed it on being too drained._

The morning came, and Jaskier woke up first with his head on Geralt's chest. Even though the man was built like a tank, he was relatively soft and pillowy. The brunet grinned against the velvety skin and let his eyes and fingers roam over the endless silver scars on the witcher's body. It was truly breath-taking. If Jaskier were a tad bit braver, he would press kisses on Geralt's skin on every single mark. Trace the lines with his lips until the mutant is all hot and squirming under his touches.

But he didn't.

He just rested his head on Geralt's chest. Listened to his slow heartbeat and watched as the man slowly woke up with a lazy smile on his face. Jaskier placed both of his palms onto the witcher’s chest and laced his fingers together, popping his chin onto the back of his hands as those amber eyes blinked open.

"Morning, Handsome." Jaskier grinned, and at that moment, he knew that he wanted to wake up to this sight every morning. Geralt's arms were immediately closing around him, and pulling him so close it was borderline painful. "Easy there. Scrawny human here." Jaskier laughed loudly, and the witcher just snorted as he let the younger man go. "Did you sleep well?"

"Never better." Geralt said, and his voice so early in the morning was more like an animalistic growl than a human sound. It woke up Jaskier instantly. His body reacted in a way that was not appropriate, given how pure this moment was. "Are you ready to go?"

"Well, not everyone is as flawless as you when they wake up. Give me five minutes, and I will be presentable." Jaskier groaned jokingly and was ready to climb out of the bed before Geralt sat up and reached for his wrist. The brunet turned back, and the witcher looked at him, really looked at him. He studied his chaotic hair and the pillow's imprints on his skin. Jaskier wanted to hide until he had washed his face and fixed his hair, but those golden eyes didn't let him escape.

"You are beautiful."

Those three words were simple. Jaskier heard them million times before. During a drunken snogging in a club or from an overly affectionate customer. They were not new or surprising, yet the brunet was baffled. He saw how vulnerable Geralt was, how genuine he was, and it scared him. But at the same time, he wanted to throw his leg across the witcher's lap and kiss the living soul out of the man.

For a second, he was sure he would do something awfully foolish. He had to bit his lips because he could not let himself speak from his heart. He could not.

"Fuck, I really want to climb you right now. L-like in a platonic way, of course. No pressure, but I just want to put my mouth on you. Everywhere. Gods, Geralt, you can't say things like this. And so early in the morning? Are you trying to kill me?" Jaskier moaned and buried his face into his palms when he heard the witcher snicker. "Stop laughing. I'm so embarrassed and turned on I don't know if I want to cry or suck you off."

Geralt's chuckle was loud and so natural. The way it bubbled out of him made the flustered bartender join and laugh with him.

It took some time to leave the bed. Not for Geralt, he was out and walking around with his gorgeous everything like the tease he was in no time, and Jaskier needed time to calm himself down. He didn't know if he wanted to drag the witcher back under the blankets or wanted the man to grab him and push him up against a wall. Both. Who was he kidding? He wanted both.

Geralt knew exactly what Jaskier wanted from him. He could smell it on the young man, he couldn't hide his arousal from a witcher. But as much as he wanted to act on it, he chose to ignore it.

It would be a mistake. A glorious, unforgettable mistake, but a mistake nonetheless.

Not yet. Or maybe never. And it was hard to swallow it that he will perhaps never know how Jaskier's skin taste like. Maybe he will never know how Jaskier's body feels like when he quivered from bliss.

Geralt sent those thoughts away as he looked over the kitchen table, and the brunet sat there, grinned at him, and didn't notice that he had butter on his cheeks.

Gods, he loved him so much it was painful.

"Stop staring and eat your crumpets." Jaskier mumbled with his mouth full, and Geralt did as he was told. Ate his toasted, buttery crumpets.

Being on the road with Jaskier was hauntingly familiar. The way he fidgeted in the seat. How he kept jumping from topic to topic only to backtrack and fill the stories with more information than needed and then forgot what he was going to say, so he started a new tale. Geralt loved it. Just listening to Jaskier's nonstop chatter while he kept his eyes on the road and stole quick glances from the brunet was so simple yet so refreshing.

And Jaskier was happy. His heart was beating at a quick pace, his scent filled the car even with the windows rolled down. The brunet couldn't stop grinning, and he felt like for the first time in weeks, he was just where he wanted to be. Where he had to be.

As they were driving towards the coast, the air started to change. Jaskier could smell the sea breeze, and even the sky looked clearer and bluer. He couldn't sit still. He rolled down the window as low as possible and closed his eyes as the wind ruffled his hair.

Geralt had to concentrate on the road, but he found his gaze wandering back to the young man on the passenger seat. Jaskier looked so soft, and he smelled like true happiness. It made the witcher's slow heart beat like a race car.

The key that the mutant hid in his pocket. The key that belonged to a flat, a flat for Jaskier, was getting heavier in his leather jacket. It weighed tons, and it pulled on his shoulders. He couldn't remember when the last time he was this nervous had been. He couldn't predict how Jaskier would react.

Would he think it's too much? Would he think Geralt lost his mind?

The witcher might had a stoic face, but deep down, he was curled up in a corner double-guessing himself. The only thing that kept him sane was that glowing smile on Jaskier's face.

"I booked us a room. We could go there before we-"

"Can we go to the beach first?" Jaskier asked so fast Geralt’s lips were still hanging open when the other turned to him with those huge blue eyes. "Please?" He added with a little chuckle, and the mutant just nodded with a hum, changing lanes smoothly with the car.

Jaskier's chest was so tight he was afraid he was going to burst into pieces. The city was gorgeous. As they drove through the streets, the brunet couldn't help but grab Geralt's arm that held the gear lever. He saw the man look at Jaskier's fingers around his wrist, and his full lips turned into the smallest smile the brunet has ever seen.

Gods, how much he wanted to kiss that tiny smirk until it turned into a broad grin.

When Jaskier's bare feet touched the warm sand, he couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled out of him. Geralt was just behind him, taking off his boots and rolling up his dark jeans just above his ankles. Their eyes met for a brief second, and the mutant’s breath was taken away. Jaskier's brown locks were fluffy and all over his forehead in a messy, windblown absolute mayhem. His bony ankles were pale, and his trousers were rolled up until his knees on his long legs. His smile was so blindingly shiny Geralt felt like staring into the Sun.

He did this.

He put that smile on Jaskier's face. He made his eyes sparkle, and he never wanted that gleam to disappear.

The brunet ran until his feet were wet from the damp sand, and he dropped his boots were the waves couldn't catch them and carry them away. He dashed into the sea. The water was splashing up at him, drops landing on his jeans and shirt as he walked further into the waves. His fingertips brushed the surface. The cold clear water became blurry as his feet stirred up the silt on the bottom of the sea.

Waves hit his legs until he got entirely soaked. He could feel the salt on his lips as he turned around with a chuckle, and there he was.

Geralt was such a sight.

He was so out of place.

Too dark, too black, and gloomy in such a bright place. Like a black cloud on an empty, blue sky. Like a spot of black paint on a blank canvas.

He was stunning.

The way he stood there, unaware of how Jaskier turned around and watched him. Geralt folded his leather jacket and held it in his hands with his black boots. His grey t-shirt was so tight it stretched over his chest and biceps in a way that made the brunet's mouth water. The witcher was looking at his own feet. His toes were under the dark wet sand as he stood there in the water, frowning at the waves.

Jaskier loved him with his whole being.

He adored this ancient, surly, silver-haired monster slayer. He was an enigma, and Jaskier wanted to know all his little secrets. He wanted to solve the puzzle that Geralt was.

Jaskier walked towards the land. Towards the man until those amber eyes were lifted to look at him, and he was just right in front of Geralt. The witcher's eyes softened, his scowl vanished, and he smiled when he looked over the brunet's wet clothes, golden gaze lingering a few seconds on Jaskier's shirt where the seawater made it see-through and clung onto his skin.

Geralt cleared his throat and quickly looked into aquamarine eyes.

"Is it how you imagined?" He asked with that deep, rusty voice of his that took away Jaskier's breath each time he heard the man speak. The brunet stood closer, nearly leaving enough space between them for the wind when he shook his head.

"Nope." He said, making sure that _p_ popped off his lips with a mischievous grin. Geralt's eyes grew worried fast, and Jaskier saw the way his jawline clenched just as his shoulders tensed up.

"Oh." That one quiet word was nearly washed away by the loud sound of sea, and the brunet's insides melted a tiny bit because how soft the man sounded.

"Geralt, this is so much better than anything I've ever imagined. Being here with you means everything to me. I-I… thank you, really. Just so you know, I will write so many songs about this. About this moment. And you, because, fuck, you're so out of place here and yet you fit just right in and… and I'm just babbling about nothing." Jaskier laughed, and the apples of his cheeks flushed red. Geralt exhaled loudly and let his lips curve up as he watched the brunet squirm and blush in front of him.

"Let's just drop our stuff in that room you booked, grab something to eat, and come back here, yeah?"

Geralt only nodded but what he truly wanted to say was 'Whatever you want'. Because sincerely, he would do and give anything Jaskier wanted. The way the brunet looked at him, reached for his hand, and pulled the witcher with him to walk back to the car was leaving him breathless.

And Jaskier was still holding his hand. The brunet's fingers were lean and soft, his skin was smooth like velvet in Geralt's scarred and sword-hardened hold. Their hands fit perfectly together, and it truly shouldn't come as a surprise. At this point, it was more than destiny that the mutant was walking back to his car with Jaskier by his side. It was his fate.

The brunet brushed off the dry sand of his feet with a smile before he hopped into the car. Geralt felt silly, driving his vehicle barefoot with his sandy feet, but the way Jaskier giggled at him, he decided he didn’t really care about all that. Jaskier turned in his seat and let his head rest against the cushion, watching the golden-eyed man as he turned on the engine.

He loved him.

He wanted to say it. He wanted to say it out loud. Scream it from the top of his lungs. He wanted to whisper it into Geralt's skin. He wanted to moan it while he was trembling from pleasure.

"You're brilliant, you know that, right?" He asked with a smile, and Geralt made an unimpressed face that made the brunet snort.

"I'm a butcher, Jaskier. Nothing else."

"Oh fuck that. You are the closest thing to a superhero we will ever have. You should be on the telly. You should have your own merch, Geralt. People should know about you. They should worship you."

It was honestly adorable how worked up Jaskier got, and Geralt found it hard to burst his little bubble, but he didn't want the young man to believe he was something more than an abomination.

"I'm nothing but an experiment. I was a freak even amongst the others."

Jaskier got silent. He wanted to convince the man, but he didn't want to ruin their date.

"Would you tell me about them? Your family. The other witchers." The brunet asked softly, and the memories came back so fast and unannounced it made Geralt shiver. "You don't have to, of course, if you don't want to, I just-"

"There were hundreds of us." The mutant's raw voice came and interrupted Jaskier, but the brunet didn't mind. He bit his bottom lip immediately and listened to whatever Geralt will share with him.

"We were all too young to be in a place like Kaer Morhen. Sold and abandoned by our parents. Thrown away like rubbish without an explanation."

"Geralt, I'm sorry you don't have to-"

The mutant shook his head like it didn't matter.

"We had many trials. After each trial… there were less of us. They never had funerals. We never knew who or how many we lost until we saw the graves."

"Geralt don't-"

"There was Vesemir. Our… trainer. Sort of. A teacher. He was the closest thing to a father I will ever have. I sometimes miss him. You would have liked him, I believe. He had an answer for everything. He knew us better than we knew ourselves, and he loved us in his own way."

"Then there was Eskel and Lambert. My brothers. They were bloody annoying but I trusted them with my life. Vesemir used to call us a pack of wolves. His _pups_ when he drank too much and thought we can’t hear him."

Jaskier let out a small laugh. He could imagine Geralt being young, with other wee lads, maybe with curly hair and a grin, being all snotty nosed and dirty by their knees just playing around, wrestling, and not caring about anything.

"We have been through hell together, but at the end of the day, they could always smile. They found happiness even after we buried dozens. I never knew how, but I always admired them for that."

"You smile when you are with me." Jaskier added quietly. "And I think it's beautiful."

Geralt snorted, and it made the brunet giggle.

"I wish I could have met them. I sure they had some embarrassing stories about you."

"Too many to count."

"Oh, do tell!" Jaskier grinned, and the witcher just shook his head again.

"I would rather not."

"Come on, Geralt, give me something!" Jaskier whined, and the mutant just parked the car smoothly on the side of the road with a smirk.

"Next time. Promise." He said, and that three words held more hope in them than anything Jaskier ever heard before.

"I will hold you onto that." The brunet said as they climbed out of the car, and the silver-haired man just nodded with a soft hum.

Jaskier turned around and was clearly taken aback. He was expecting a hotel or any kind of a resort, but he was standing in front of a five-floor building that looked more like a student accommodation than a hostel. The brunet looked over to Geralt, who was already walking towards the front door and holding it open for him.

Jaskier was filled with questions, but Geralt was already next to him, walking up the stairs when he stepped through the door.

"Aren't we supposed to check-in or?" Jaskier asked as he jogged after the man, who turned on the hallways like he knew where he was going. Like he had been here before.

"I want to show you something." Geralt said as he looked over his shoulder, and for a second, Jaskier was confused. The witcher sounded off. He couldn't really pinpoint it how, but he just seemed unsure. Scared even, and it made the young man worried.

"Geralt?" The monster hunter was walking fast, marching, and when he stopped, Jaskier nearly collided with the broad, leather coated back. "Is everything alright?"

It took a minute until Geralt turned around, and now the brunet was legitimately anxious. The man looked pale, his eyes were unfocused, and he held something small in his palm that Jaskier couldn't clearly see. The young man already opened his mouth to pour a bucket full of questions on the witcher, but Geralt was faster this time.

"You told me that you want to study music. T-that it is your biggest wish." Geralt couldn't believe he just stuttered. The key in his grip was burning his skin like it was something holy, and he was rotten and sinful. "I know I had no rights, and you can say no, and Yen will just undo all of this."

"Geralt, Darling, I'm trying here, but you are not making any sense." Jaskier smiled, but it was confused, and it made the witcher frown and curse under his breath.

"Fuck. I… I know. Let's just…" Geralt shook his head and stepped to the door. It was a key in his palm that Jaskier couldn't see until now. A key that opened the door for the flat they were standing next to, and the brunet was so incredibly baffled, he just dumbly followed the man inside.

The flat was empty. It smelled like it was just recently painted, and it was absolutely squeaky clean. There was an old box in the middle of the living room, a chest more like it, and looked like it was hiding something valuable.

"I think we need to call the receptionist. They forgot to furnish the room." Jaskier chuckled to cover up his fluster.

Geralt let out a huge sigh and turned to face him. This time those amber eyes found the blue gaze and hold them firmly.

"This flat is yours if you want it, and in two weeks, the Cidaris University starts."

The sentence came out like a hurried mumble, and Jaskier needed a few seconds to break it down.

During this week, the only thing Geralt hunted for were renting agents and flats with Yennefer by his side. The sorceress seemed to be quite helpful. She was the perfect mixture of terrifying and annoyingly charming, just like every real estate agent in the business.

Geralt felt like an absolute arse. Jaskier was clearly nervous, he could smell it on him, and he hated it, but each time he opened his mouth, he was a blabbering idiot.

"Geralt I didn't apply for any uni. I-I can't afford it. I ran out of coffee two weeks ago, and I don't have the money to buy some because rent is due and-"

"I know." And it breaks my heart, Geralt wanted to add. Jaskier deserves everything, and it was terrible to see him have nothing. "I bought this flat for you."

The cat was out of the bag, and the brunet looked like he forgot how to breathe. He was just blinking at Geralt, then he looked around the room with his mouth agape.

"You did not. Y-you can't, Geralt, you can't just buy me a flat… A-are you…"

"You need somewhere to stay if you start going to your classes." Geralt offered quietly, and the brunet gaped at him. The witcher could see tears in the corner of those unfairly blue eyes, and he started to panic.

"C-classes? Geralt, I'm not… what are you saying? I got into Cidaris?" Jaskier's voice got shaky. His lips trembled, and he had to hide them behind his palm. Geralt smiled, and now those tears the brunet was holding back rolled down on those white, milky cheeks.

"You got into Cidaris University." He said with a grin, and for a second, he thought Jaskier will collapse, so he stepped closer to catch him if needed, but the brunet backed away and shook his head.

"How did you do that?"

"Yennefer did. I don't know how, and I didn't ask." Geralt admitted, and the laugh that burst out of Jaskier was so natural and beautiful it lit up the room like a small explosion. "I know I overstepped and-"

"Overstepped? Geralt, you fucking ran with it, and I want to kiss you right now so much, and I would do it if I wouldn't be covered in tears." Jaskier grinned and tried to wipe his face with his sleeves, but he couldn't stop crying. "I don't know how I'm going to pay you back for any of this. It will take me decades, but I swear I will pay back for all of this. I promise!" He jabbered, and the mutant stood so close to him that their chest touched. Those strong hands cupped his cheeks, and thumbs brushed away his tears.

Jaskier, at that moment, really believed that Geralt would finally cross that line and kiss him. It was the perfect moment for that, and the witcher had to know that he wanted it. He wanted the white-haired man with all of his cells in his body. He needed him.

But Geralt didn't kiss him. He didn't move any closer. He just stood there and looked at him like he wanted to save this moment, engrave it into his mind for the future.

"You don't have to pay back anything. I'm giving it to you." Geralt whispered, and his voice was nothing but a rumble. It made Jaskier weak and wanting.

"But why would you do this for me?"

Jaskier knew why. At least he hoped he knew the reason, but he wanted Geralt to say it or just give him a hint. He saw the golden eyes go wide and then felt the witcher's thumb brush over his bottom lip so softly he nearly missed the caress.

"You know why."

Jaskier's heart was grabbed by a fist, and it was ripped out of his chest. Geralt's breathless voice was like brushstrokes on a painting. Hurried, meaningful yet gentle. And it was enough for the bartender.

"I just can't say it… just not yet." Geralt pleaded and rested his forehead against Jaskier's. His eyes closed, and the brunet could feel him slightly shiver.

"I know you just had enough of me, so you move me here to get away." Jaskier joked quietly, and he felt the little puff of air on his lips as the man laughed.

"Hm."

"See? I knew it."

Jaskier didn't know how long they stood there. How long he let Geralt hold him, but his tears slowly dried up, leaving his eyes red and puffy. The witcher's palms got hotter from his skin, and even when Jaskier started to play with the hem of Geralt's tight shirt, the man still held him close.

The word _perfect_ finally made sense to him.

It was this hurt, beyond broken man who could give such a massive amount of love and cause so much happiness it should be impossible.

It was Geralt. He was inside and out perfect.

And Jaskier, well, Jaskier just got his dreams handed to him on a plate with something extra he never knew he wanted so badly, and he had no fucking clue how to handle it. So he just rolled with it and enjoyed it for as long as he could.

"Geralt?"

The brunet broke the silence, and the witcher lazily moved away to look at him. Those large, warm hands dropped to Geralt's sides, but that soft smile was still present on his pink lips.

"Did Yennefer kill someone to get me into the university?"

The question was so genuine it made the witcher laugh in a way he thought he already forgot how.

"I'm serious. She terrifies me, and as much as I appreciate everything you two done for me, I don't think I can stomach the idea that my education starts with a homicide."

"Yen is clever. She can hide a body. Don’t worry about it."

"Well, obviously. She looks like the type who has a favourite burial ground and method, but are you sure I won't end up in prison because let’s be honest, I'm too pretty for jail."

"Hm. Not likely."

"Not likely? Geralt! Do I have to wipe down the doorknob? I touched the walls as well! Your car is parked outside, and I cried everywhere!"

"I will visit you regularly if you end up behind bars."

"Geralt! Not funny!"

"I could teach you some self-defence."

"You are being an arse, answer my question, Witcher. Did Yennefer kill someone to get me into this school?"

"It's better if you don't know, so when you confess, it will be more believable and honest."

"You are an absolute twat!"

Jaskier's laugh rang in the empty flat as he pushed the grinning man out of his way to walk around the space to explore. Geralt followed him closely, and that weight he was carrying on his shoulders this past week was finally gone.

Now he only had that excruciating pain in his chest that pulsed harder each time he looked at the brunet.

He thought grieving someone was agonising until he realised how tormenting it was to love someone you can never have.

Geralt was lucky that pain was an old friend of his because if he were any weaker, he would be on his knees begging for mercy.

Who knew that loving Jaskier would be harder than living with his fading memory?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well what do we think? I think I would love to know what you all think :)
> 
> Please leave a comment if you have some extra time and see you gorgeous peeps at the next chapter!
> 
> Oh and, 
> 
> Nagyon boldog születésnapot drága egyetlen @elviehun isten éltessen sokáig, Csücsök!!!!  
> (yes this is black speech from Mordor, Sup Sauron, my man!)  
> 💖💖💖
> 
> twitter: @doberainbow


	15. Playing with fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovely peeps. 
> 
> after a long... very very long and tiring week finally I had some time to finish this chapter!
> 
> well, all aboard on the slow burn train!!

“So, are you going to tell me what’s in that box, or should we wait until it starts leaking blood?”

“It might take a while. It’s properly sealed.” Geralt shrugged and earned a hearty laugh from the young man. It echoed between the empty walls and sounded absolutely delicious to the witcher. He wanted to savour that sound. He wanted to listen to it every night before he goes to bed. He wanted to wake up to Jaskier’s laugh.

The brunet skipped over to the package and crouched down. Geralt felt his heart drumming in his throat. It was hard to swallow from it.

The chest clicked open, and the witcher forgot to breathe until he heard it. It was a gasp. An audible gasp coming from the young man who dropped onto his knees.

“Oh Gods, Geralt is this… I-It can’t be-”

Jaskier didn’t turn to look at him. He couldn’t peel his eyes off the treasure that was hidden in the box, and Geralt… well, Geralt couldn’t say a damn word.

He talked about this with Yennefer, and the mage said he should go for it. She said it was a brilliant idea. The witcher was a little bit reluctant, but he let himself be convinced, and now here they are.

Geralt was watching the young man staring at something from the past the witcher tried to forget about. It was something he hid in his basement but was never strong or brave enough to give away until now.

He only kept a few things from _his_ bard. Some clothes, his journals, a few of his accessories, and the lute.

The lute Filawandrel gifted to the poet on their first journey. On the day they met. On the day, both of their lives changed for good.

When he closed his eyes, he still remembered Jaskier’s words when he crossed the tavern and came over to his table to talk with this brooding stranger. With bread in his pants.

The way the sunlight hit half of his face and his eyelashes as a halo surrounded his impossibly blue eyes.

It was centuries ago, yet it felt like it was only yesterday.

“I don’t want to touch it. It’s so magnificent.” Jaskier’s tearful chuckle shook the mutant to his core. It was so bright and genuine. It felt like a sip of ice-cold water after a long, scorching day out on the sun. “Geralt, you can’t be serious… this-this must worth a fortune. It should be in a museum. Oh, Dear, I’m not worthy to-to even look at this. I-”

“I don’t know anyone else who would be worthier than you, Jaskier!” Geralt interrupted, and first, he thought the brunet didn’t hear him. He wouldn’t blame him. His own voice was nothing but a rumble in the silence.

But Jaskier did catch his words. He turned around with trembling lips. He tried to hide by biting them. Geralt only saw that look once, and he never thought he will ever see it again. The memories came back, hitting him like a train that got loose on the tracks.

_“Geralt, please don’t go!” Jaskier held him back. Pulling on the straps of his armour over his chest._

_“If those garkains reach this village, dozens of people will be dead in hours.” The witcher argued, and the way those blue eyes darkened and Jaskier tightened his hands into fists on his chest was new._

_He saw the bard being angry before countless times. He saw him fuming, cursing, throwing a punch but never like this. Never like this._

_Jaskier was terrified._

_“There are too many of them you can’t…! Geralt, I can’t-” He didn’t finish. He couldn’t. He closed his eyes and shook his head._

_“Children and innocent people will die, Jaskier.” Geralt spoke calmly, and he got two angry fists slammed into his chest as the poet cursed._

_“Fuck them!” Jaskier hissed and let his tears roll down on his cheeks. “Fuck everyone else. Do I look like I give a toss about them? No! Do you want me to start listing why your life is more important because I will?” The poet was shouting, and his fists were hitting the mutant’s chest after each word, like if he wanted to punch his sentence into Geralt’s body. He wanted to convince him. He wanted to get through that thick skull of his. ”Please!”_

_“I have to.” Geralt, never in his long life, wanted to stay away from a fight._

_No. He was the stab first and ask later, man. He was the headstrong, stubborn witcher that ran into any nests of monsters. He killed beasts with his bare hands. But now. Now he wanted to stay because he couldn’t bear the look on Jaskier’s face._

_Geralt moved away. Not because he wanted to, but he needed to. He reached for his witcher medallion, and he tugged it out from under his armour. The silver wolf head was heavy in his palms._

_Jaskier stared at him with a confused frown, then the witcher stood closer and hung the silver necklace around the poet’s long neck. The bard looked down at the wolf on his chest then back at his Wolf._

_“Keep it safe. I will come back for it.” Geralt whispered and smiled at the poet. It was a smile he only ever shown to this young man in front of him, and then Jaskier gave him a look the witcher has never seen before._

_His eyes were like a bucket being tipped over. The sheer amount of affection that poured out of them was overwhelming. It slammed against the mutant like those fists before. Those ocean-blue eyes were biting into his dark soul and ripping it apart._

_“You are an idiot!” Jaskier sobbed and held the medallion in between his trembling palms. “Come back to me, you hear me? Or I will haunt you beyond the grave, I swear!”_

_And Geralt did. He fucking crawled back bloodied and broken, and Jaskier was shouting with him as he patched him up, but the witcher was happy because of how the brunet looked at him._

And now those eyes were back again, and the heat that pooled in Geralt’s belly came as well.

“I’m not sure if you can still play on it.”

“Pl-play on it? Geralt, Darling, I’m even afraid to look at it. Play on it? I… Gods, I just-” Jaskier stopped talking like he ran out of air. Like he ran out of syllables. He shut the box gently and stood up. It was deliberate. He usually moved either as smoothly as a cat or a frightened newborn baby deer. There was no in-between. But now, he wasn’t either of those things.

The brunet moved like he was told to do it. He moved like someone with a mission, and he never had a plan before.

Jaskier was all improvising and acting on impulses. He usually just did as he wanted, as he needed in that given second. He wasn’t someone who prepared short speeches in his head. Who practised arguments in the shower. No. He was quick and witty, and spontaneous.

Now, he was serious. He didn’t just shrug and say ‘fuck it’. He thought about the outcome. He thought about the aftermath. The damage it may cause. And he never did that before. He never cared enough about anything before to make him doubt himself. He never had anything this important to lose.

Geralt watched him with eager eyes. He saw when Jaskier wiped away his tears with the back of his hands. He smoothed down his wrinkly shirt and looked at the witcher.

And the mutant didn’t need words from the other to understand, but because it was Jaskier, he couldn’t stay quiet.

“Geralt I-” Even before the young man could have said anything, the witcher took a step back. He didn’t mean to. His body just reacted, and he cursed in his head for doing that.

Jaskier saw that. Geralt watched the utter embarrassment and worry on that handsome face.

“A-are you afraid of me?” Jaskier asked with a soft, forged smile. He knew the difference in their physical strength was like a gaping, impassable canyon between them, yet the mutant looked like he was facing a great beast, and his hands were tied together behind his back.

Geralt shook his head because he was scared he couldn’t force a voice out of his throat.

“You look terrified, Darling.” The brunet said and didn’t come any closer.

“It’s not you, it’s the-”

“Memories?”

Geralt only nodded his head, and Jaskier sighed.

“I know you asked me to wait. You told me that you’re being haunted by your past, and I want you to know that I will wait for you, Geralt. Take your time because I will be here. Whenever you are ready.”

And the witcher knew at that moment that he needed to be fair and straightforward. He should be honest. The brunet had to know that maybe they weren’t actually moving anywhere. Jaskier thought they were a slowly flowing river. Maybe not. Perhaps they were a dark and turbid lake going absolutely nowhere.

“I may never be ready, Jaskier.”

It wasn’t the entire truth, but it was close enough for now.

Geralt was ready. He was ready two hundred years ago. He was ready two weeks ago, and he will be ready two decades into the future as well.

Jaskier wasn’t. He was still a human cursed with a short lifespan, and he was so goddamn delicate. Brittle, and so unbelievable precious.

Geralt was old, and he had seen everything. He saw people die because of an infected mosquito bite. He saw people die in seconds because of a careless driver. He saw people slowly fade away as their sanity gave up on them. He saw people fighting with illnesses for too many years before death came for them.

And Geralt was just simply not strong enough to witness that again.

Jaskier watched as the emotions appeared for a few seconds on that handsome face before the witcher fought against them, and they disappeared one by one. He knew that Geralt was not telling everything to him. He could feel it in his guts. He saw the man struggling with the secrets he kept locked away from Jaskier. And it surprised the brunet that he wasn’t angry about it.

If the silver-haired man wanted to wait, Jaskier would do that with a smile on his face.

It was something he couldn’t truly explain, but he knew that wherever Geralt goes, he would follow the monster hunter. He wanted to follow him, be near him. As a friend. As a lover. As a burden. Anything Geralt lets him be. Anything Geralt wants him to be.

“I don’t care about that.” Jaskier said in a breathy voice, but the witcher frowned at him in disbelief. “I really don’t! Geralt, I will take whatever you can give me. Please don’t feel like you are leading me on. I-I knew what I signed up for, and I’m willing to wait. Even if there is nothing to wait for.”

“But for how long?” The witcher hissed, and when he thought he can’t hate himself more, he was surprised once again.

“As long as I can.” Jaskier grinned and reached to hold Geralt’s sword-hardened, scars enriched hands. “As long as you want me to.”

And right there, the mutant was selfish and greedy. Because he could tell the bright-eyed young man in front of him to move on. To forget about him. To let the idea of they became something more go.

But he didn’t.

He nodded. He lifted Jaskier’s hand and pressed a kiss on those bony knuckles earning a chuckle from the brunet.

“I hope you brought a book because it might take a while.” Geralt mumbled, and now the other was unabashedly cackling at him.

“Take your time, Darling.” Jaskier grinned, and the witcher thanked him with another kiss. Now on the inside of that pale, thin wrist were blue and purple lines running under the brunet’s silky skin.

The flat was still dreadfully empty. Even if Yennefer offered to help him furnish it, the witcher refused it. He wanted Jaskier to fill this house up with his belongings. He wanted to go and buy the bits and pieces that the brunet needed. He wanted to build the bed frame or nightstand, whatever Jaskier will need. He wanted to help him create a home here. To have his fingerprints on everything, so when he returns to Ellander, Jaskier will still feel like that Geralt was around.

And the young man was already seeing this vision.

Jaskier walked around, pointing at corners and windowsills. He had already decided where he will put his books, plants, guitars, everything. He walked around the small flat, holding Geralt’s cold hand between those warm fingers, and gave a tour.

The witcher smiled. Jaskier wanted a bigger bed for _them_. He was already thinking about where the mutant will sleep when he visits. He started to explain how he has to show Geralt to use his phone or computer so they can talk and see each other through the camera. The witcher only nodded.

Jaskier was already years ahead of him. In his head, the brunet already started school and was planning how they could meet halfway between the cities on the weekends. How much would be the train tickets to Ellander when he wants to surprise Geralt and just show up. He was already thinking about where to spend the winter break, here or maybe with the witcher? He was already planning their future.

Geralt wasn’t.

Until he met Jaskier, he had no future ahead of him.

He had tasks. He was living his life from a hunt to hunt. Mission to mission.

Now he had someone who was planning to celebrate birthdays and other holidays together. Who wanted to call him every night before they go to bed. He had someone who wanted a future and a past with him.

And Geralt was hanging on tightly because his head was spinning, and he was scared if he let’s go of Jaskier, even if only for a second, he will vanish like smoke in the wind.

“I can’t let you do that.” Jaskier grimaced and averted his beautiful eyes to the floor.

“I’m offering. You need your furniture here. I will help you pack and hire a lorry.”

“I can pay for that. I swear I just-”

Geralt held his face and tilted that chin up until he could look into that unfair blueness.

“Jaskier. I have more money than I will ever need. I’m not offering a charity. I’m not offering you a loan. I will pay for this because I can and because I want to.” The brunet left his mouth a wee bit open before hit bit down on his bottom lip.

“Who knew I will get a new home, start university, and discover I have a sugar daddy on the same day, huh?” He mumbled, and Geralt pressed a kiss between his eyebrows on those worried lines with a grin.

“Then let me take care of you.” He whispered, and Jaskier let out a pained whine.

“I don’t think you have any idea how hot is that. I’m serious. My trousers are getting tighter by each passing second.” Jaskier chuckled, and Geralt moved away from him and sniffed the air with a smirk. “Oh, my Gods. Stop doing that!” The brunet pushed him away with a laugh and turned around.

“I can’t believe you can smell my emotions. My arousal and… ugh… You know how easier this skill could have made my social life as a teenager? You have any idea how many times I flirted with the wrong straight men? Unbelievable.” Jaskier jabbered, and as he turned around to face Geralt, he witnessed something so rare it only happened maybe once in every thousand years.

The mutant’s handsome face was all darkened and scrunched up with jealousy, and Jaskier felt awful. Awfully satisfied.

“Oh, what do we have here?” He sing-songed and slid closer again to Geralt like a snake, charmed, ready to dance to the rhythm of the mutant’s fast heartbeat. “You all got hot and bothered by the thoughts of small, young, bright-eyed little Julian trying to get on the good side of some big bad men?” He teased with his honeyed voice, and the witcher physically shivered by that image in his head.

Jaskier’s grin was impossibly wide. He was quickly wrapping his arms around Geralt’s neck like how ivy crawled up on brick walls, spreading and absurdly clingy.

“Ahw, Dear Heart, if I would have known that one day I will have _you_ in between my arms, I would’ve never let anyone else touch me.” Jaskier murmured, standing on his tiptoes. Geralt wasn’t much taller than him, but he loved it when they were the same height. It gave him some kind of power and extra confidence boost, and it clearly messed with the witcher’s head in a good way.

Geralt growled. This vixen in front of him was formed by his deepest desires and biggest fears. And the witcher was smitten.

“Jaskier.” It was a warning. The sound was so raspy and growly like as if it came from a beast.

“Tell me, _Geralt-_ ” The brunet chuckled and made sure he moaned that name just quiet enough to make the mutant sharply inhale. “would the thought of me whimpering someone else’s name upset you?”

He knew he was playing with fire. He knew he was being an arse. A tease. And it was evil to play with the man like this, but seeing Geralt fidget, seeing his fingers and hand clench into a fist. The way he tried to hide his fangs behind trembling lips and his golden eyes just shined a teeny bit more wickedly. Oh lord, it made Jaskier’s belly warm.

“Stop. Talking. About. Others.”

Geralt’s voice was breathy and so deep, so deep like a sound of a rock hitting the bottom of a well.

“Mhm. So it does bother you?” Jaskier smirked and let his fingers play with the end of Geralt’s ponytail. His hair was surprisingly silky. “Why is that? Don’t you think once you _finally_ claim me as yours will make me forget about everyone else? Because I think it would. It would make me forget about everyone and everything.” He tilted his head to the side and let his eyes linger on those flushed, pink lips.

Honestly, a man shouldn’t have so gorgeously shaped lips. For a second, Jaskier didn’t know if he wanted to bite it or place kisses all over it.

“I don’t want to claim you mine.” Geralt spoke softly, and the brunet shook his head with a grin.

“Bollocks. I know you do. I hope you do because I want to call you mine. My Geralt. My Witcher. My Wolf. My Love.”

“Jaskier, please…” The mutant didn’t know if he wanted to hear more or nothing else. He could listen to Jaskier’s voice until the rest of his never-ending life. But thinking about the love of his life enjoying someone else’s touches and giving his body to others was something he couldn’t stomach.

“Dearest, nobody can come close to you. You have nothing to worry about, but please do because I love it when you can’t control yourself.”

“You’re the devil.” Geralt grunted and saw the sparkles in those sky-blue eyes.

“Well, I undoubtedly look good in red and black, but I’m not sure if the horns would suit me.” Jaskier laughed, and now it was the witcher’s turn to get on his tiptoes. He pressed a kiss into those fluffy, brown lock, just on the top of the young man’s head, earning a hearty chuckle.

“Horns. Tails. Fangs. Scales. Whatever. I don’t care. I love you with or without them.” Geralt said and let his thumbs ran along those sharp cheekbones. Jaskier’s face grew hot under his palms, and his long eyelashes fluttered before he spoke.

“You just said you love me.”

_Oh._

Geralt blinked. Once and then again.

“I-”

“Nope.” Jaskier shook his head as he interrupted. “You have said it. You are not allowed to take it back or try to explain it.”

“I’m not-”

“Nu-uh. You said it in that deliciously deep voice of yours that-”

“Delicious?” Geralt raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. Like sour candy.”

“Hm.” Fair enough.

“You said that you love me. There is no going back from now on. You admitted it. _Me, Geralt insanely-thick Rivia, I am undoubtedly, and madly in love with this blue-eyed twink.”_ Jaskier said as he tried his best to copy the mutant’s rough voice and cranky face.

“You are not a twink.” Geralt sighed and rolled his amber eyes.

“Well, a buff, extremely manly twink.” Jaskier shrugged and threw his hair back before he smirked at the white-haired man. “I’m even surprised you know what a twink is.”

“I have internet access.” Geralt muttered, already regretting he said anything when the mischief twinkled in those aquamarine eyes.

“I like where this is going. Tell me, Sweetheart, do you often search for blue-eyed buff twink brunets on the internet at late nights when your bed is all cold and lonely?”

“You forgot extremely manly.” Geralt helped with a smile, and Jaskier puffed out a laugh.

“Of course. That too. But no changing the subject. We are having a conversation here.”

“About what exactly?” The witcher frowned, and it was the bartender who rolled his eyes now.

“About what makes you all needy and flushed. Come on. Give me some hints. Should I order like a nurse outfit? Do you like someone who takes charge? Do you have a thing for collars? Should I-”

Whatever Jaskier wanted to add was muffled by a large palm placed on his mouth. Geralt was grinning, and he looked at him with so much adoration the brunet was sure his heart will start melting in any second.

“You want to know what I _really_ like?” The mutant asked, making sure his voice dropped low, and it was rather amusing how Jaskier’s eyes widened. His scent went haywire. It was filling up the room in waves. Geralt was greedily gulping it down. “You really want to know what makes me lose my humanity?” He whispered, standing so close to the other, their chest touched as they breathed fast. Jaskier nodded eagerly. Trying to say something, but it only came out as whimpers.

“It’s you.”

Those two words were just the wax seal on this love letter that today was.

“It’s you, and everything you do and what you are.” Geralt stopped, but when Jaskier groaned under his palm, he felt the need to continue. He licked his chapped lips and took a deep breath.

“I… love your voice. I should tell you that more often. It carries so much emotion. Where mine is broken, yours is so… wholesome.” Warm, strong fingers wrapped over his wrist, but Jaskier didn’t try to pull his hand away. No.

He just wanted to hold onto Geralt before he will be washed away by his words.

“Your scent drives me mad, Jaskier. It’s so fucking sweet, and you always smell like lavender. Do you even use lavender for anything?”

The brunet shook his head.

“Of course, you don’t.” Geralt sighed and scowled at him. “You’re perfect. If-if I could, I would write poems about your eyelashes, Jaskier. When the light hits them. Or the way you lick your lips when you are nervous. Or how you move your hands when you talk. Do you… do you even realise what you do to me?” The witcher asked, and his voice cracked. Jaskier had tears collecting in the corners of his eyes. “ You don’t. For you being like this, being so perfect for me is nothing. It’s natural. You don’t even try, Jaskier. Like… if… if you had been made for me.”

_And maybe you were._

That thought was still there in the back of his mind.

Jaskier was made by magic. With Yen’s magic. Maybe this was all over Destiny playing it tricks. But Geralt was beyond caring about all that.

He wanted this man in front of him for years. He mourned his death for centuries. And he loved him for even longer. He doesn’t care if it was all magic. He doesn’t care if they felt like _that_ towards each other because they had to.

Geralt did not care.

He only cared about one thing and one thing only.

To have Jaskier by his side forever.

The mutant dropped his arm and let Jaskier talk. And oh, the brunet had _many_ things to say. He did not shut up for hours.

_“I can’t believe you just said that without railing me up against the wall. Like… that was the perfect moment for some snogging. And you know I want it. I know you know because you can smell it on me. And bloody hell, I’m sure I smell of horny, whatever that smells like. And no. You just smile and step away, and I’m dying here, Geralt. But don’t worry. I will wait. I can wait. I have two hands. Perfectly working. And yes, I am talking about me thinking about you fucking me in this empty house and enjoying my clever fingers. Yes. And now you have to suffer from this image in your head. You deserve it. Stop sulking. If you wanted to, you could have this. Alllll of this. But you chose not to. Which is respectable. Fair enough. But now, each time you close your eyes, you will see me naked, tossing and turning on my sheets, calling out your name. Hah. Stop growling!”_

Geralt stopped. After a while. He stopped growling and glaring. They went for a walk in the town. Jaskier wanted to learn the streets, see the shops, get to know the area. They ate chips at the beach. At least Geralt did. Jaskier fed his portion to the seagulls with a smile. He kept giggling while they ate it out of his palms. And the mutant… he fell in love with the brunet all over again.

Later on, Geralt told the other he actually booked them a hotel room. He wouldn’t make them sleep in an empty flat. Jaskier was chewing on his bottom lip before asking if it would be a problem if they would sleep in the flat. The witcher laughed and shook his head.

They ended up buying pillows and blankets on their way back. Jaskier built them a nest and was waiting for Geralt to finish in the bathroom. When the mutant walked out, he saw the brunet on the floor. Blankets under him and around him. Geralt was hundreds of years old. He can’t believe he was having a sleepover. On the floor. On the hardwood floor.

But he did.

He used to sleep in caves and on rocks. Comparing to those places, this was luxurious. Even if his knees cracked as he sat down next to Jaskier.

The brunet was wearing an oversized t-shirt and tight underwear. He wrapped his warm legs over Geralt’s thighs with a grin.

The witcher told him he can’t believe he convinced him to sleep on the floor. Jaskier told him with a laugh that he can’t believe Geralt actually agreed.

They were idiots. In love. Wrapped in blankets. Probably will be sore everywhere when morning comes.

Geralt couldn’t care less.

He pulled the brunet closer and buried his nose into that soft hair.

Jaskier placed kisses all along his collarbone. He traced the hem of the witcher’s shirt. Pulling it slightly down to see more skin. He was humming a tune the mutant never heard before but already loved.

Geralt pulled him closer. Impossibly close.

When Jaskier’s chest rose, Geralt’s chest fell. They weren’t moving, yet they were in sync.

The brunet giggled into his neck.

“You know I could just move my hips, and you would be done. Done.” Jaskier mumbled, and the witcher sighed.

“I know.”

“Good. I just wanted you to know. A fun fact. Me and my hips could end this. Here and now.”

Geralt let out a snort.

“Well, you and your hips should go to sleep then.”

“I’m throwing you the biggest bones in history, and you are throwing them all back, Geralt.”

“Just wait, Jaskier.” The witcher whispered into his hair.

“I will. You know I will, right? I just like teasing you.”

“I know.” He sighed again.

_You always did._

They were quiet for a few minutes just until Jaskier let out a miserable groan.

“This was an awful idea. This is so bloody uncomfortable. I can’t fall asleep.” Jaskier moaned, and the mutant, without thinking about it twice, turned onto his back, pulling the smaller body with him.

The brunet yelped when he was halfway across Geralt’s stomach, leg thrown over thick thighs, face pushed against a firm chest.

“Oh well. This is a lovely solution.” He said. Still a little bit stunned as he wrapped his arm over the witcher’s waist. “I can’t believe we could have snuggled up in a comfy king-sized bed in a… how many stars?”

“Five.”

“In a fucking five-star hotel. What the hell, Geralt? Why did you agree to this? You are supposed to be the clever one.”

“I’m an idiot, Jaskier. Especially around you.” The mutant muttered as his eyelids slowly fell shut.

“Clearly.” Jaskier snorted and wiggled closer to the monster hunter. “This is not too bad, though. You smell nice.”

“You told me I smell like onion.” Geralt mumbled, already half asleep, drifting away from reality.

“What? You are talking nonsense, Darling. I never said that. You smell like pine cones.” Jaskier propped his chin on the witcher’s chest, watching as the man head bobbed to the side.

Geralt’s face relaxed. His frown disappeared, his always tightly pressed lips were now slightly open. His hair was all over the pillow. Jaskier made a mental note to braid the silver locks next time so it won’t get tangled.

The brunet smiled. He placed his face again on Geralt’s chest, just above his slowly beating heart. Like an ancient clock ticking. It was lulling him to sleep. On the floor, in the arms of the man he loved so much, it frightened him.

But for now, life was good, and Jaskier will cherish it as long as this bliss will last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, I hope you still enjoy this endless teasing, but hey, we are over 100k💕
> 
> anyways... please tell me what you think, even if you just wants to shout 'WHY DIDN'T THEY KISSED YET?'
> 
> i know... i know... they will, believe me!
> 
> you can catch me on twitter @doberainbow
> 
> see ya all later 💖
> 
> PS: Na most rajtad a világ szeme Vivi! Várom a ficet 😉


	16. Snap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *me dropping this new chapter after a month*
> 
> the readers: Well Well Well, If It Ain't The Invisible Cunt

The first thing Geralt realised in the morning was his left shoulder was aching so sharply it was mind-numbing. He woke up with a groan and a face full of brown, soft hair. During the night, somehow, they managed to shift onto their sides. Jaskier was curled up against his chest with his back pressed against the witcher. The mutant’s right arm snaked around the younger man’s torso, and Jaskier was holding his hand between his palms.

Geralt could feel the faint, noiseless breathing on the back of his hand as the brunet pulled his arm under his chin. The monster-hunter needed a long second to put it all together. The room, the excruciatingly uncomfortable floor, and Jaskier sleeping against him while they… _spooned._

His golden eyes snapped open and took in the orange lights illuminating the room through the open curtains they forgot to close before falling asleep. He saw Jaskier’s shirt falling off his shoulder that was poking out from under their blanket. Geralt, without thinking, moved closer and pressed a kiss onto that freckled skin. On that perfectly round shoulder. His chapped lips brushed against the creamy, warm skin, and Jaskier stirred in his sleep. A lazy moan rumbled in the brunet’s chest, and Geralt grinned into his neck.

“Morning.” He whispered and couldn’t help but press his nose against Jaskier’s temple and breathe in deeply his thick, honeyed scent. The brunet now really did move, a shiver ran across his body, and he trembled in Geralt’s hold.

“Mhh.” A delicate sound rang in the empty room as the young man was slowly leaving his dreams. “Geralt?” He dragged out the witcher’s name in a low, dry voice, and it made the mutant’s blood boil in mere second. “If you are not planning on fucking me until we break the floor and end up in my under neighbor’s flat, then don’t you dare kissing my shoulder, you tease.” Jaskier murmured with a giggle, and Geralt couldn’t hold back the laugh that wanted to burst out of him.

“I think you should say hello to them first.”

“You think?” Jaskier finally opened his eyes, and half turned his face to look at the man who now hovered over him, leaning on his elbows. Blue met amber, and the young man pressed a peck on Geralt’s scarred knuckles before he grinned at the man above him. “Good morning, Love. Are you as sore as me?”

“Very.” He muttered, not even trying to hide the fact that he was gobsmacked by how gorgeous Jaskier’s was. Even if he had the pillow’s imprint on the side of his cheek and his hair was as chaotic as it can be.

And the brunet’s mind wasn’t any less cluttered and messy.

Geralt was simply breath-taking. His hair was a frozen waterfall. Icy and untamed. His eyes were kind and so unfairly bright like the sunrise itself. His chin and jaw had the perfect amount of stubble on, and Jaskier wanted to touch him, let it scratch against his skin where it’s the most sensitive. He wanted to feel the burn on his neck and inner thighs and everywhere else. Gods, he wanted to rub himself against the witcher like a needy cat.

Jaskier could feel his body react to being so close to the other man. Being so close to someone he wanted so profoundly and so incredibly shamelessly was making his stomach twist and turn.

The witcher saw how those pupils were blown out and felt Jaskier’s skin getting scorching under his touch. He needed to move away before one of them closes the gap between them.

The brunet must have seen the struggle that was going on inside Geralt’s head because he squeezed the hand he was holding close to his chest and smiled at the other shyly.

“What are you thinking about right now?”

The pleading was so genuine and careful. Those gorgeous, large blue eyes looked at him with so much adoration. Geralt felt like he was drowning in the bottomless ocean what Jaskier’s gaze was. He knew what the other was waiting for. What he was waiting for since they met. What he could probably feel throughout his whole life.

The truth about their history.

The truth was on the tip of the witcher’s tongue, but his lips were sealed. He couldn’t swallow. He couldn’t make a sound. He just closed his eyes and felt a shaky palm against his cheek.

“Hey, you know you can tell me anything. Whatever is it. I can see it eating you up, Darling.” Jaskier’s voice was war. Hesitant and confident. Hopeful and slightly terrified at the same time.

And fuck… Geralt was such a coward. He could see himself telling everything to this beautiful man who looked at him like he was his whole world. He could see himself saying that Jaskier was made by magic, just for him because he was so weak… so incredibly weak, he couldn’t let go of the memories of the bard. He could see himself telling it all, and he could saw that horrid look on the brunet’s young face. The utter betrayal. The realisation that it was all fake and he never had a choice, to begin with.

Geralt could see him push him away. Shout at him as tears slid off his angry-red cheeks. Slamming the door in his face and never looking back.

The mutant could see it all inside his head, and the image gripped his throat so fiercely he couldn’t say a word.

“I’m serious. I won’t walk out. I will listen and do my best to stay quiet.” Jaskier stroked his thumb across his stubbly skin, and Geralt turned his head to press a kiss into his soft palm.

He was gutless. He was a coward and a wimp.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not important.”

And a terrible liar.

The brunet studied him for a moment before chuckled and mirrored the tender movement as he kissed Geralt’s calloused palm.

“The offer stands if you want to share whatever is that you carry, my Dear. Anytime. Feel free to just drop it on me.”

“Hm. I will keep that in mind.” The mutant nodded, and Jaskier’s grin was now broad and toothy.

“Good. Now please, get me off this bloody floor. I swear my bones are all flat from sleeping here.”

Geralt shook his head with a smirk as he let go of the young man only to get up on his knees and scoop Jaskier up into his arms like he was a giggling, clingy bride.

“Oh, hell, yes!” The brunet wrapped his arms around the witcher’s neck as soon as he felt those hands go behind his back and under his knees, and with that, he was lifted into the air like he weighted nothing but a handful of feathers.

The fact that Geralt didn’t even struggle under him was brilliantly hot. And Jaskier wasn’t a small man. He was heavy. All those years of carrying beer barrels and playing on various weighty instruments put a layer of muscle on his bones. Yet in the witcher’s insanely thick arms, he felt dainty. Something he never felt before but quickly started to love.

“Do I even weigh anything to you?” He asked as the mutant walked into the empty kitchen with him and Jaskier suddenly felt the cold stone of the counter under his bottom.

“Not much.” Geralt admitted as he put the brunet down gently on the high-table, and the bartender crossed his legs, displaying his flawlessly white skin on his mile-long thighs, leaning back on his palms with a grin. Yellow eyes narrowed on those tempting legs as Jaskier tilted his head to the side, letting it drop onto his shoulder.

“I can see you holding back yourself, and I know it's evil of me, but I love watching you struggle, Handsome.” He chuckled loudly, and Geralt glared into those ocean-blue eyes.

“Of course, you would enjoy it.” He snorted and shook his head with a sigh.

“You want to know why?”

“Enlighten me.” Geralt raised an eyebrow at the grinning man.

“Because one day, I will see that famous patience of yours snap like a thread stretched too hard. One day, my dear Witcher, you will push my legs apart and fill that gap in between them.”

“Jaskier-” It was a warning. The mutant snarled as the brunet spread his legs and placed his palms on the edge of the counter between his thighs, leaning forward, not letting his gaze drop from those amber eyes.

“One day. Maybe here. Maybe in your loving, warm home, but one day you will not hold back anymore, just _take._ And that day will be the best day of my life.” Jaskier finished with an annoyingly smug smirk while he watched the witcher’s chest rise and fall so fast like he was fighting against a whole army of men.

Geralt’s mind was filled with images so sensual and provocative he was actually seeing red. He could taste the young man on his tongue, and he could only imagine how delicious the other would be when he is writhing and moaning under him. How he could lick the inside of those trembling thighs and watch his fingertips leave bruises against porcelain-white hips. Feel Jaskier’s nails scratch across his scarred back. Witness him falling apart because of Geralt.

“Well, now that I have your attention, we should go grab a coffee, don’t you think?” The brunet asked leisurely with a wide yawn, and Geralt truly wanted to press a kiss onto Jaskier’s forehead and tell him that there was nothing else in this world he wanted more.

“Do you want me to carry you there as well?”

“Do you think we can go to the drive-thru if you give me a piggyback ride?” Jaskier laughed when Geralt helped him get off from the countertop. Not like he needed it, but it felt good to be so close to the man who wanted to touch him so freely. It made the brunet’s skin tingle.

“We can try.”

Geralt always wanted to hide throughout his whole life. He never once wanted to be in the middle of attention, and of course, he somehow always ended up being gawked at. First, it bothered him when the bard sang ballads about him in a crowded tavern standing on the bench next to the brooding witcher who tried to blend into the stone walls or disappear in a dark corner. He often accompanied the poet to courts and royal parties. Trying to stay behind, stay hidden.

But now, with this flamboyant handful of holy mess beside him, there was nothing he wouldn’t do.

This was his second chance to make the brunet happy, and whatever would pop into that brilliant mind of his, Geralt will do it only to see that blinding smile over and over again.

They didn’t try the drive-thru. As soon as they stepped out of the flat, Jaskier wrapped his arm around the witcher’s elbow and leaned against him as they walked.

Public display of affection was always foreign to Geralt. Never anyone wanted to be seen with a monster, and he understood that. Even during their short-lived relationship with Yennefer, they mostly stayed in her room. He never asked the mage why. Maybe he was afraid of the answer, and back then, he was so deeply in love he would’ve died for the black-haired witch. Geralt didn’t care that Yen was maybe ashamed of him. After all, he was nothing but a freak of nature, distorted by magic and years of battle.

And then here was Jaskier nearly glowing as they walked on the streets together as a couple.

_A couple._ That’s what they were, even if they didn’t say it out loud yet.

Jaskier was all over him. Both his arms holding Geralt’s biceps. He wasn’t looking where they were walking, causing a small heart attack to the mutant each time he stumbled over a curb or even his own feet. He kept pressing his cheek against the witcher’s shoulder each time he laughed, enjoying the cold leather jacket against his flushed skin.

Geralt's senses were razor-sharp and cutting. Even with that irresistible cloud lingering around him that Jaskier was.

The witcher saw how strangers looked at them. He kept glaring at people from the safety of his sunglasses, hiding those angry yet slightly anxious amber eyes. Jaskier was oblivious to all those whispers and sneers. He kept chatting about anything and everything he saw or could think of. Clinging onto the mutant like a needy child. While people just glowered at them.

Same-sex couples were still rare to see in public. It didn’t quite count as a taboo anymore, but it was unusual for two men to so openly display love towards each other on the streets. But of course, Jaskier didn’t care about any of that.

He was a rebel centuries ago, and he was a rebel now as well.

And he finally made Geralt understand why lovers tried to show everyone that they were a couple.

Because they were proud of their partners.

And the witcher was proud. Fuck, his chest was swelling up with so much smugness and happiness he was afraid it will explode. He wanted to show Jaskier off. He wanted everyone to see how mesmerizingly stunning he was. He wanted people to know how clever and witty he was. Geralt wanted everyone, every single unimportant person on this Earth, to know that this magnificent and striking young man chose him. _Him_. From everyone else, because Geralt had no doubt in his heart that Jaskier could get anyone.

Yet it was him who walked around with this stunning brunet, and the mutant, for once in his life, didn’t want to hide.

“How is your terribly bitter black coffee?” Jaskier asked with a grimace, crunching up his nose as he sipped on his cream covered, syrupy beverage he called a latte.

“Terribly bitter. You want to try it?” Geralt offered with a grin watching as the young man pressed his lips together and shook his head.

“No, thank you. I might as well lick an ashtray if I want that taste in my mouth.”

Oh, Jaskier and his famous sweet-tooth. The mutant nearly forgot about it. He doesn’t know how many times he treated _his_ bard with honeyed desserts and other sugar-coated delicacies. For years he surprised the poet with small delights from various markets, and never once he wasn’t taken aback by Jaskier’s honest surprise and sincere smile when he took the gift from the mutant’s hands.

He even once wrote a song about it.

It was a ballad about a wolf that brought fruits to a broken-winged songbird that couldn’t fly away for winter. It was short and light-hearted. One of Geralt’s personal favourites.

Jaskier sang it to children mostly. Kids only saw the fun and kindness in the tale. They couldn’t see the concealed message between the jolly rhythm and lines. It was only Geralt who caught the occasional winks and smirks the troubadour sent him while he sang, and the witcher tried to calm down his fluttering heart.

They ended up on the beach, sitting on the small dunes, listening to the waves crushing. The brunet untied his shoes and buried his toes into the warm sand. Jaskier looked at him with a grin, and Geralt sighed, taking off his own combat boots as well. His feet were outrageously white, and the witcher frowned at his own skin.

“You thinking about getting a tan, Love?” Jaskier giggled as he butted his ankles against the mutants. “Don’t. You are gorgeous the way you are. Like a tall, full-fat glass of milk. Mhm. Delicious.” He hummed, and the silver-haired man furrowed his eyebrows at him.

“Full-fat?”

“Yeah. You know. _Thick._ ” Jaskier smirked and bit into his bottom lip as he watched the man’s frown turn into something entirely else. For a quick second, the brunet thought about if it would worth it getting arrested for public indecency because he was so, so damn close to jumping at Geralt and ripping those unfairly tight, dark clothes off of that ridiculous body.

“Ugh, stop looking at me like that. I’m not snogging you on this beach, don’t even try it.” Jaskier sighed dramatically and dropped his head on the witcher’s shoulder.

“There goes my plan of luring you here.”

“You sly dog.” The brunet laughed and pressed a kiss at Geralt’s clothed shoulder.

They were silent for a few minutes. Watching the waves and enjoying the feather-light touches of the Sun on their faces before the young man opened his lips again.

“Would you mind if I take a photo of us?”

Jaskier’s voice was unsure, but when those amber eyes looked at him, the witcher saw how he tightly gripped his phone, knuckles turning white from eagerness. And Geralt… well, Geralt was gobsmacked. He only nodded silently and watched as those eyes sparkled and a broad smile spread across that young face.

“Alright. Now, look into the camera like you are unconditionally and hopelessly in love with me. You know. How you usually look.” Jaskier babbled as he lifted his phone, and Geralt stared at his own reflection on the screen. Yellow eyes were wide, and his whole face was distorted by shock.

Jaskier was quickly snapping photos. He grinned. Crossed his eyes. Poked his tongue out. Puffed up his cheeks like a squirrel. And Geralt just smiled. Slowly and whole-heartedly at this silly human by his side.

He never had a photo or a painting of _his_ bard. He only lived in his memories. And thank fuck for modern technology because… Gods, Geralt wanted those photos. He wanted them so badly his fingers were itching. He wanted to look at them when he is alone. He wanted to see Jaskier’s smile when the other is far away from him, and the witcher needs some softness and happiness in his gloomy life.

“We look good in that one, right? I mean, you look good in all of them, how unfair? You know some people have bad angles. Ever heard about that? Maybe you should try it one day.” Jaskier whined and scrolled through the photos. Geralt reached to grab his wrist gently and stared into those cornflower-blue eyes.

“Send it to me. Please.” He croaked huskily, and the brunet blinked at him with a grin.

“Sure. Which one?”

“All of them.” Geralt whispered, and Jaskier quickly glared down at his mobile.

“Eh? I’m sorry, my Darling, but there is no way I’m sending you all of that. I don’t need you to see that one. Look. I look horrendous on that one. My left eye is half-closed. Ugh, I-”

Geralt was fast. He reached out and lifted the brunet’s head with a finger under his chin, and whatever Jaskier wanted to say died in his throat when he saw the witcher’s face.

“All of them, Jaskier.” That blue gaze was flicking frantically between golden eyes and pink lips. His stomach jumped into a ball, and he could only stare at this extraordinary man in front of him.

“S-sure. Yeah. All of them. Right.” The bartender mumbled as he moved closer, now absolutely unable to take his eyes off that alluring mouth. Why a witcher needed, such plum and gorgeously shaped lips was beyond him?

“Half closed eyes or not. You are beautiful.” Geralt murmured gravelly before a wicked grin took over his face.

“Oh fuck off with your photogenic face and perfect everything.” Jaskier pouted, and the mutant pressed a soft kiss to his forehead while the brunet whined quietly. “Do we have to go back? I want to stay here.”

“You’re going to live here.”

“I knooow.” The brunet dragged it out with a smile and dropped his head on Geralt’s shoulder again, turning his blue eyes back to the sea. “But you won’t be here with me.”

“I’ll visit you.” The mutant said, and Jaskier looked up at him with a grin.

“I know you will. If not, then I will just run back to Ellander and burst through your door.”

Geralt let out a tiny chuckle as he watched their legs tangle after Jaskier hooked his feet over his calves.

“I need to teach you how to video chat.”

“Hm.”

“I still can’t believe I’m going to uni. I just… it was always that dream that hangs there in front of me, but I knew I cannot ever reach it. Taunting me, and now, now it is in my grip I don’t know if I’m ready or not.”

“You will be, and even if you are not, Jaskier, you don’t have to do this. It can wait. If you want to. Wait a year or two.” Geralt’s voice was gentle but still had that raspiness in it that made the brunet’s toes curl. Those impossible amber eyes were so light from the Sun that sometimes they appeared white, and it took Jaskier’s breath away.

“You are perfect. I hope you know that.” He said playfully, and for half a second, he thought he saw that alabaster skin on Geralt’s cheeks get red before the mutant turned away from him, scowling at the sea in front of them. “Oh, Darling, you have no idea how adorable you are.” Jaskier cooed and giggled when the grumpy man turned to him with an unimpressed frown.

“I kill monsters for money.” He growled, and the brunet just grinned broadly at him. “I could easily rip you apart, Jaskier.”

“Mhm, kinky.”

Geralt snorted and rolled his eyes as he wrapped an arm around the other’s shoulder and pulled him closer as Jaskier tilted his head against his shoulder.

“Can I visit you on the weekends?”

“I will drive here whenever I’m free.” The witcher spoke, and he didn’t need his eyes to see that the brunet was smiling. He could smell that happy, flowery scent oozing out of the other. He could hear that fluttering, quick ba-dum ba-dum loud and clear as Jaskier’s heart pumped inside him.

“You should totally wait for me outside of the school leaning against your car being all dark and hot any mysterious while I ran towards you in slow motion and jump into your arms as everyone stares at me jealously.” Jaskier sighed theatrically, and Geralt shook his head with a chuckle.

“Are you really keen on that slow motion because the other things are manageable?”

“Yes. Otherwise, how would everyone see my happy tears turn into crystals and sparkle as I ran towards you?”

“Sure. Right. My bad.” Geralt nodded with a hum, and Jaskier turned his head and propped his chin on his shoulder to look at his profile.

“I’m going to miss you.”

Those words kicked the mutant in the chest. He heard them so many times in the same tone. He heard them each time he said goodbye to _his_ bard when he went to spend the winter at Kaer Morhen. Each time the poet looked at him with a genuine but shy smile and said the exact same words.

_“I’m going to miss you.” Those blue eyes were so bright in the darkness that surrounded them. It was still before sunrise. Geralt usually left in the middle of the night, but this time he slept a good eight hours before the long journey. He kept telling himself it was because he was getting older and the winters were colder, and it had nothing to do with the brunet curled against his side, snoring silently, smelling of freshly cut lavender._

_“Don’t forget about your very best friend while you are being a hermit in the mountains.” Jaskier joked and crossed his arms on his chest. It was cold, and the poet was only wearing a see-through silk shirt and his breeches. The breeze was waking up goosebumps all over his skin, yet he didn’t run back to the inn. No. He insisted on watching Geralt leave and saying goodbye._

_“How could I? Each time I go there, my brothers are singing your songs day and night.” The mutant grumbled with a frown, and when the other laughed so openly and blissfully for a second, Geralt thought about taking the bard with him to the School of the Wolf. For a long minute, the witcher couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing the other’s smile and hear his voice for long, lonely months._

_“Do they? Oh my, what an honour.” Jaskier giggled and wrapped his arms around himself tighter after a mighty breeze._

_Geralt looked at the other and could feel his slow heartbeat thumping louder and harder inside him. He felt the urge, a tug to go and hug the other until he stopped trembling from the cold. But he didn’t. Geralt grew roots deep into the ground, and he was unable to move a damn muscle._

_“Where are you heading to?” He heard himself ask Jaskier with a husky voice and the young man just shrugged his shoulders with a coy smile._

_“You know me, I will just charm and flirt my way into some court until springtime. I will be alright. Don’t worry about me, Witcher.” The brunet winked at him merrily, but there was something bitter in his sweet scent. Something he couldn’t hide with a gleaming smile._

_It was making Geralt uncomfortable. Or maybe he was grasping at straws. He wanted to take Jaskier with him. He wanted to have a reason to ask the other to travel with him to Kaer Morhen. And the fact that he **wanted** him there wasn’t a good enough reason. The fact that he asked Vesemir a year ago if it would be accepted if he shows up the next time with a bardling by his side was still not a good enough reason._

_Even the thought of leaving the poet here and not seeing him for months caused him physical pain, yet it was not strong enough to defeat his cowardice._

_Geralt swallowed down the lump in his throat and accepted the truth that he was a bloody weakling._

_“Try not to get yourself killed.” He said sharply, and Jaskier rolled his sky-blue eyes at him with a grin._

_“As hard as it to believe, I do just fine without you, my Dear.” Jaskier said confidently, but both of them deep down knew that it was a lie._

_The brunet was miserable without the witcher. He could take care of himself perfectly. Even defend himself from muggers and other lowlife people on the road, but his soul… his soul was craving. It was empty while Geralt was away. Rhymes didn’t come. Composing was demanding and troublesome. He was just empty without the witcher._

_And Geralt? He wasn’t any better either. He went days, even weeks, without talking. He was morose and hot-headed to a level where Vesemir had to lock him away like some rabid dog. He was absolutely pathetic._

_So why was it so hard for both of them to ask that one simple question?_

_“Well. I don’t want to hold you back. Go and be a grump in that cold and icy castle of yours before the snow gets too thick even for you.” Jaskier smiled at him and stepped back but still not turning away. He always watched Geralt leave. He stood there every year until the silver-hair disappeared on the horizon or in the dense forest. This year won’t be any different._

_The witcher nodded and grabbed the reins on Roach’s neck, leading the mare a few steps away before he stopped with a snarl._

_He was being stupid. A stupid, coward excuse of a man. Even the chestnut horse gave him a questioning look as Geralt fought with himself for long seconds before he turned to face the confused bard again._

_“There are plenty of rooms in Kaer Morhen.” He mumbled hastily with a tight jaw and avoided those searching blue eyes as he glared at the muddy ground._

_“Uhm, that is good to know?” Jaskier frowned and tilted his head on the side with a confused little grimace, and the mutant bit the inside of his cheek so hard he could feel the taste of copper in his mouth._

_“It’s warm as well. Vesemir never lets the fire die out.” He tried again, still not making any sense to the baffled brunet._

_“Good. That is very… considerate of him.”_

_“We do hunt a lot. Our plates are always filled with meat, even when the snow is impenetrable.” Geralt grunted, and for a split second, he dared to look at the troubadour who just stood there slightly quivering from the cold, nibbling his rosy bottom lip, trying to understand why Geralt was saying all of this to him._

_The witcher sighed and swallowed down whatever spiky, choking feeling was making his throat tight and painful._

_“Jaskier, if you want, you could come with me.”_

_Geralt blurted it out, and he froze. His mind was racing. He braced himself for a laugh, for the question of ‘Why would I want to spend my winter with you when I can sleep with gorgeous men and women in a royal palace?’. The witcher was ready for all._

_But the mocking cackle didn’t come. Jaskier didn’t roll his beautiful eyes and walked back to the tavern. No._

_He stood there and stared at the mutant as if he was some God who flew down from the skies offering him eternal life._

_And Geralt panicked._

_“You don’t have to. I just thought-” The witcher started but couldn’t finish whatever dreadful absurdity wanted to come out of his mouth because Jaskier finally snapped out of it._

_“Yes. Of course. Wait. Were you serious? D-Do you really want me to come with you?”_

_Geralt felt the breath stuck inside his lungs as he blinked at the eager human in front of him. Did he want Jaskier there? Gods, yes. He wanted the annoying brunet by his side all the time._

_“Yes.”_

_He grunted even though he wanted nothing more than to grab the poet, put him on Roach, and gallop away as he hugs him tightly against his chest._

_He wanted him there. He wanted his brothers and the whole pack to get to know Jaskier. He wanted them to see why Geralt fell for him. Why the witcher chose him. He wanted to brag with Jaskier. He wanted to put him on a pedestal where everyone could see him, and he proudly could say that yes, this is the man he wants and loves._

_“I want you to come.” He whispered, and the squeak that came out of the bardling was something he never heard before. He also never see the other coming when he closed the distance between them and hugged Geralt so firmly the mutant stumbled back a step or two._

_Jaskier’s body was colder than usual, but the scent, fuck his smell was intoxicating, and the witcher gasped when his lungs filled with that honeyed aroma. He couldn’t ever react with his famous mutated senses and fast reflexes, and Jaskier was already moving back with a deep blush on his cheeks, which was slowly creeping down on his neck. Geralt wanted to taste his red skin. Feel it how hot would it be under his lips._

_But he couldn’t move a muscle. He stared at the flushed young man who avoided eye contact as he spoke._

_“Sorry. That was… uncalled for. I just… I always wanted to go there. After the first time we parted away, I went to Oxenfurt and read every single book I could find about Kaer Morhen in the library, and let me tell you, there are a lot. Most of them are theories and assumptions. Some people managed to sneak close enough to give a good description, but no one ever has been inside, and… and Gods, the songs I will write about it. If-if I’m allowed, of course. And to spend the whole season there with you and your brothers is just a dream come true.” Jaskier was talking fast as always. Like a chirping bird, he was, and that crimson blush was getting darker, taking over milky skin as it spread._

_Geralt didn’t even realise when he started smiling at the bard._

_“You can’t sing about some things, but I’m sure Vesemir will let you compose a few songs about us.”_

_And Jaskier’s wide eyes caught his, and both of them knew at that moment that it meant more than what they were saying out loud. It meant more than anything they will ever be brave enough to tell the other. But it didn’t matter. Back then, as Geralt watched the young poet ran back to the inn to gather his belonging together hastily, he knew that after this, there will be nothing that separates them._

_In the past year, they travelled together without saying goodbye once. Neither Jaskier nor Geralt wanted to break up. If the bard went to a court for a fancy ball, the witcher went with him or stayed at their room until the brunet came back with a grin, alone, and climbed into their bed. When Geralt could only find drowners and kikimoras, Jaskier didn’t complain as he usually did, asking for a wider variety of monsters or more excitement. No. He watched Geralt fought against these creatures for a hundred times and kept him company as the mutant dragged their carcasses back to whatever dreary village paid for them._

_And now… now they won’t separate for the winter, and when the flowers will bloom, and the snow will melt away, they will continue their journey together._

The memory was so precious to Geralt he couldn’t hide his smile as they slowly wandered hand-in-hand on the streets. Jaskier was chattering about the university and its famous professors and students. The witcher tried to pay attention, but his brain was going back in time, pointing out how familiar the past was when they used to walk together with their shoulders touching, Jaskier’s fingers holding onto his arm when the wind was blowing so vigorously the mutant was afraid the brunet will be blown away.

The humour of destiny was dark and bittersweet.

But Geralt was used to it by now, and as long as the brunet was by his side happy and living, he didn’t care about the cruelty of life.

They ended up having lunch in a _boho_ restaurant. The mutant had no idea what that meant, but Jaskier kept complimenting the chaotic decoration and mismatched colours, so it didn’t really matter. Their waitress was bubbly and fast, too smiley for the cranky witcher’s liking, but before they left, she called them adorable, and the way the brunet laughed at him when Geralt pulled a face was quite lovely.

Jaskier stood in the doorway of his new flat and looked back at the empty kitchen and living room with the witcher who stared at the young man. Their bags were hanging off their shoulders, ready for the journey back home.

“I don’t want to leave.” Jaskier chuckled and turned around to lift his sparkling eyes at the stunned, silver-haired man.

“You’re coming back soon.”

“I know, but this weekend was everything I thought I will never have.” The brunet grinned so widely Geralt for a second thought his porcelain skin will crack and crumble from the sheer joy. “I don’t know what I did in my previous life to deserve this.”

Jaskier laughed. He meant it as a joke, but the witcher’s heart missed a beat.

_You died. You died because of me, and now I’m selfishly dragging you back into it again._

The voice in Geralt’s head was loud and mean and filthy, but he didn’t let it shown on his pale face. He hesitantly smiled at the brunet and locked the flat behind them, and when he turned around, Jaskier leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss onto his cheek.

“Thank you. For everything.”

The witcher couldn’t respond. He felt like drowning in his own lies. He nodded awkwardly and pressed the key into the brunet’s soft palm, wrapping his finger around the delicate hand.

“I thought that was your key.” He teased as he blinked up at the mutant with a smirk, and Geralt shook his head with a grin.

“I have mine at home.”

“Oh, I see. So you just thought you can walk in here whenever you want to without announcing it, and I will be fine with it, huh? Well, then you were absolutely right. Please, surprise me whenever you can. Preferably in my bedroom in very little clothing. Or none at all.” Jaskier giggled as he pocketed the key and reached to wrap his warm fingers around Geralt’s bigger, scarred hand.

“Duly noted.” He grumbled as they walked down the stairs and the young man’s laugh echoed in the building.

The car ride back was quiet. Jaskier kept zoning out as he watched the beach disappear, and then he turned a little on the passenger seat, toed off his boots, and pulled up his leg, watching the frowning man drive silently. He leaned against the door, the seatbelt uncomfortably dug into his neck, but he didn’t mind it as he watched Geralt’s arm’s flex when he changed lanes or grabbed the shift gear.

Jaskier bit his lip and let his eyes roam freely on the other’s body. That tight, black t-shirt clung onto the mutant’s frame like a second skin. Nearly ripping on his biceps, stretched to its limit. The brunet knew he wasn’t thinking straight. He knew that the bliss from the weekend was making his mind hazy and filled his head with this heavy, red smoke, but he couldn’t help it.

He wanted to pull and twist the steering wheel until they were on the side of the road and climb into Geralt’s lap. Both of them were too tall for this car, especially if Jaskier would sit on those thick thighs, but if the witcher would tilt his seat back a wee bit, they could manage.

Jaskier’s mind at this point was brimming with filthy thoughts, and he couldn’t hide it from the witcher.

Geralt was squeezing the steering wheel so forcefully he was afraid it will snap under his fingers. The car was filled with Jaskier’s scent, and the brunet smelled like lust. The hunger in the air was so thick it was choking the mutant. He thought about cracking the window open before he will be gasping for air, but _that_ scent was so bloody delicious he wanted to drink it all up.

Jaskier giggled on the passenger seat.

“You’re panting, my Love!”

And indeed, Geralt didn’t even realise, but he was silently heaving.

“Something bothers you?” The brunet asked innocently and stretched his legs into the witcher’s lap, crossing his ankles as his feet laid on the man’s thighs. It was an awkward position because of the gear stick, but Jaskier managed, and it was worth it when he saw Geralt’s jaw clench.

“You’re playing with fire.” Came the rumble and a big palm rested on the brunet’s shin, drawing tiny invisible circles onto his jeans with a thumb.

“What can I say? I am fearless.” Jaskier grinned and playfully lifted Geralt’s t-shirt on his flat stomach with his toes, whistling loudly at the sight of that glorious six-pack. The mutant snorted and looked at the bold youngster with one quirked eyebrow.

“You know I can smell it on you?”

“Smell what?” Jaskier smirked wickedly and decided to pull that shirt up as much as he could, up until his mouth watered and his whole body shivered as he dropped his leg back into Geralt’s lap. “Not a single man on this Earth needs tits like that. Absolutely unreasonable!” He groaned, and the witcher had one of those broad smiles on his lips when his fangs were on display, and Jaskier wanted nothing more than to feel those sharp teeth scarping his sensitive skin.

“You’re outrageously shameless.” Geralt murmured, and the brunet just calmly shrugged his shoulders with a smirk.

“If I would be oh so shameless, I could start touching myself right here and now while you have to focus on the road. How about that, _Geralt_? That would be truly cruel of me, right?” Jaskier clapped back fast and unabashedly, leaving the witcher with his racing heart and crumbling willpower.

“Jaskier-”

“Or…” The brunet didn’t let the other man finish. He didn’t give a chance for the witcher to breathe or find a way to escape. No. He wanted Geralt flustered and troubled from arousal.

After all, Jaskier never played fairly.

“I could replace my legs in your lap with something else. Perhaps with my lips. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m quite talented with my mouth, and you have those witchery senses. I think we could get home without causing an accident.” Jaskier purred, and Geralt unintentionally grabbed his leg with a bit more force than he intended, and the brunet bit back a moan at that. His whole body trembled when he saw the mutant bare his pearly white teeth and sharply inhale.

Geralt pulled back his fingers as if the other was burning him. He didn’t mean to put so much pressure into his hands, but he was far gone now.

He was drained, and his self-control was like a dandelion in the wind. Slowly blown away, being less and less until it was nothing but bareness.

Geralt lost it.

“Fuck.”

That single word was more like a hiss. A snarl. Something animalistic and guttural, and he flicked the turn indicator as he changed lanes quickly and with breaking every single rule out there.

Jaskier’s eyes widened as he felt the car shake and slow down. He pulled back his legs and sat up straight as he watched the man stomp onto the brake pedal. The sleek black car stopped too suddenly, and the brunet had to hold onto the door to stay in his seat. He felt his heart banging in his throat.

The click as Geralt undid his seatbelt was too loud. Like a gunshot from up close, and Jaskier shivered as the witcher moved.

He felt the way his seat sunk a little as the mutant leaned over, laying a palm just next to his feet. He saw dark, whiskey coloured eyes before everything went black. He felt trembling fingers grab his nape as the witcher yanked him close.

And then he felt Geralt’s desperate, soft lips on his own.

The world seemed to stop, and Jaskier felt like everything, and everyone was shushed to stay silent.

The cars on the highway all vanished. The hissing wind outside seemed to calm down.

There was nothing else, just the two men and that scorching heat between them.

Jaskier groaned against Geralt’s lips. Breathlessly and so goddamn lovingly, the witcher gasped against that pink mouth.

It wasn’t really a kiss. No. It was the visual representation of someone giving up.

And Geralt did give up. He couldn’t hold it back any longer.

He chained his needs and lust and passion and yearning to a massive tree centuries ago, and now that trunk was sawed thin, and it finally snapped, letting the beast roam free.

The witcher’s head was finally out of the deep water. He felt like he was breathing again for the first time since _his_ bard died. He felt like an infant who used their lungs to cry out loud.

Jaskier’s lips were pillowy, and the smell, Gods, his scent was coming out of him so thickly it may fog up the windows.

Geralt felt the soft, short hair between his fingers as he dragged the young man closer and just pressed his mouth to the brunets. He didn’t bite. He didn’t take. He didn’t give either. He was just there, and Jaskier maybe wanted more. Perhaps he wanted to move his lips and taste the silver-haired man. Lick his way into that warmness and deepen the kiss, but he didn’t. He let Geralt press against him as long as he needed to realise that Jaskier was there, he was real, he was alive, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

It’s cliché, but it truly felt like years have passed. But in reality, it was only mere seconds.

Geralt undid his seatbelt. Moved closer. Pulled Jaskier roughly and kissed him. As simple as that.

But it felt anything but simple.

It was turmoil and disarray.

Geralt pulled back only to open his amber eyes slowly, to see Jaskier’s hazy blueness stare back at him. The witcher wanted to savour this image. He wanted to relish in how ruthlessly gorgeous the other was.

“Y-you-” Whatever Jaskier wanted to say evaporated on his mouth from the heat. He licked his lips, trying to fight against that fire that was burning his skin. His tongue accidentally touched Geralt’s bottom lip, and the witcher’s whole body shivered as he pressed yet another kiss onto that clever mouth before he retreated. His hand was sliding down on the back of Jaskier’s neck as he sat back on his seat.

Both of them were short-winded. Geralt looked like a starved wolf catching the smell of fresh, warm blood in the air, and Jaskier, well, Jaskier was a human pile of quivering flesh and bone with a ridiculous blush.

The brunet blinked his eyes open and unclenched his numb fingers from where they were wrapped around the seatbelt, opening his trembling lips as he watched the panting mutant.

“Did you just-” He couldn’t finish the question. He was grinning so widely it was impossible to force himself to talk like that.

“Yes. Now shut the fuck up and behave.” Geralt grumbled fast and gruffly as he started to slowly become aware of what he just did.

Jaskier laughed at him ear-splittingly as he threw his head back against the window. The witcher snorted, and with shaking fingers, he held the steering wheel and shift gear, looking into the wing mirror.

“S-sure. Yeah. Shutting up. Not a word from me. None at all. I will be here, dying inside from the fact that you, My Dear Heart, just casually kissed me while nearly causing a car crash. Yep. Staying quiet.” Jaskier babbled between his giggles and carelessly stretched his legs back into the witcher’s lap.

Geralt shook his head with a smile and slowly guided the car back onto the motorway.

“Jaskier?”

“Yes, Darling?” The brunet chirped, studying his man’s handsome side profile as he drove.

“I love you.”

Geralt’s voice was throaty, and he couldn’t see the young man’s reaction, but he heard the other’s heart miss a beat and those long, lean legs slightly tensed in his lap.

“Love you too, my Wolf.”

Jaskier said it back gleefully, and the witcher let one of his palm rest on the brunet’s knee.

Geralt maybe will regret this later on, but right now, his life was perfect, and he was richer with the knowledge of how Jaskier moans when he tugs on those brown locks. And he couldn’t wait until he figures out what will make the brunet scream his name so vehemently Geralt’s sensitive hearing will suffer from it.

The kiss was clearly a mistake, but who would have known that making a mistake will taste so sweet?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It finally happened!!!  
> 🎉🎉🎉
> 
> hey, everyone I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If anyone thinks the slow burn and angst is over well... think again. But for now, just enjoy this fluff 😊
> 
> please leave a comment, I would love to know what you think!
> 
> Have a lovely day peeps! Stay safe!
> 
> oh, and come and see me on twitter @doberainbow


	17. It didn't matter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *awkward wave*
> 
> H-hey there!  
> Sorry for the loooong wait my Lovelies, but I was busy and I'm super slow.
> 
> Apologies! But this chapter is a long...ish one. So please enjoy!

Shopping with Jaskier was just as chaotic as he thought it will be. The brunet was a tornado on a leash. Geralt tried to keep up with him, but it was near impossible. Jaskier was storming through the stores, touching everything like a kid, dragging the witcher and the cart behind him like a man with a mission. Except he had no plans whatsoever.

"I can't choose. It could be all dark and mysterious. Like one of those haunted castles in the amusement parks with the fake cob-webs and raggedy curtains."

"Hm."

"Or make it very colourful. Tapestries and fairy lights. Plants I would try to keep alive. Mismatched colours and pillows. Lots of pillows everywhere."

"Fairies don't glow in the dark." Geralt scowled, and Jaskier turned his head to look at him with a toothy grin.

They were in a middle of a mattress store, lying on one of the newest models while other shoppers were walking around them. The mutant couldn't care less about them, especially when the young man looked at him like that.

"Do you think we would get banned if I would jump your bones right now?" Jaskier whispered and bit into his bottom lip as Geralt smirked.

"Probably."

"Shame. Because I really like this bed."

"Then we will buy it." Geralt shrugged, and the brunet sat up as if he was pulled on strings. The witcher was slower. He knew what was coming; they were going through this the last few days a dozen times.

"I-Its way too expensive. I can't afford anything but a futon. Maybe a blow-up bed." Jaskier rambled with a sigh, and the mutant slid next to him, bumping his shoulder's to the brunet's to catch those worried blue eyes.

"I'm not going to sleep on a blow-up bed." Geralt smirked, and that doubt immediately left those bright eyes, and something darker and naughtier replaced it.

"Oh, so you are planning to sleep there?"

"It depends." He purred and nearly laughed at how easily those pupils were blown out, and in an instant, Jaskier was smelling like pure lust. Getting his scent all over the store.

"Depends on what?" Jaskier's voice dropped a whole octave, and he couldn't take his eyes off of Geralt's pink lips.

"It depends on you getting a proper bed or not." The witcher grinned and stood up as the brunet rolled his eyes with a whine.

"Alright. Fine. Let's add this to my tab as well because I will pay you back for all of this. I promise." Jaskier mumbled as he walked after the witcher and wrapped his arms around Geralt's waist.

"We have talked about this." He sighed while the brunet grinned into his neck. "I have more money than I need and-"

"And I don't. I know." Jaskier groaned and looked into those amber eyes as the witcher turned around in his embrace. "Everything you do for me is… is just so much. Too much, Geralt. And I'm not sure if I'm worth it."

"You are."

Maybe it was the soothing music that was playing in the loudspeaker. Maybe it was the way those aquamarine eyes looked at him. Perhaps it was that artificial flowery scent in the shop. Geralt didn't know what caused it; maybe it was just all those centuries of being quiet that ultimately came back to bite him in the arse. But finally, the mutant wanted to talk. He wanted to get into details and share his scrambled thoughts with the other.

"Before you I… I had no reason to live, Jaskier. I've never thought about ending my life because I know Yen would find a way to bring me back so she can kill me herself, but I was miserable. For decades, even longer. For centuries I did nothing but work, sleep and eat, and it's not a life, it's surviving and then… then we met and-"

"Let me stop you right there, Geralt." Jaskier said hastily while placing a finger on the witcher's chapped lips. His voice was choked, raspy. As if he was on the verge of crying but till composed enough to swallow those tears back. "I don't want your life to orbit around me, even if it's incredibly flattering, to be honest. I want our lives to collide and make a new, brand new one." The witcher's eyebrows nearly ran into his hairline, and the brunet snorted. "Not _like_ that."

"Shame. Fatherhood would suit you." Geralt said with a smirk, and Jaskier cooed at him.

"It would, right? I'm not sure about the pregnancy, though, I'm afraid I would like an apple on a stick."

"A gorgeous apple."

The young man's bubbling laughs shamelessly echoed in the whole store. Peoples from every aisle stared at them. Some of them glared with anger and disgust. Some of them whispered to each other and chuckled. But none of that mattered as Jaskier's grin was shining brighter than the Sun itself.

The flat was coming altogether. Jaskier lovingly stared at furniture here and there while Geralt tried to convince him to let him buy them for the brunet. He sulked for a few minutes each time. Even joked with the lady in one store about how lucky he was to have a rich husband, but deep down, the witcher felt that nervous little flickering in Jaskier's chest. As if he still didn't believe this was real. Still didn't think that someone wanted to give, and not just take as his previous partners.

Geralt felt those unsure eyes on him as he sat on Jaskier's couch while the brunet put the kettle on.

"You are staring." He broke the silence and looked at the young man who stood in the kitchen with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Of course I am. Have you seen yourself?" Jaskier teased as he tilted his head to the side and pushed his hips away from the counter. Geralt couldn't help but stare. The brunet's steps were bold. The way he grinned at the mutant and stopped right in front of him. The small coffee table was nearly touching Geralt's knees as Jaskier stepped over his thighs and slowly lowered himself into the witcher's lap.

It was cautious and brave at the same time. Jaskier gave the other time to move away and stop him even if it was too much, but those blue eyes were burning with need. The mutant's breath did a U-turn in his throat as he felt Jaskier's weight on his thighs. The warmth of his skin as their legs pressed together. That playful smirk the other had on his lips as he scooted closer and pressed his palms against Geralt's grey t-shirt. Pushing the leather jacket to the side.

Jaskier was drunk. Geralt was the finest whiskey, and he had drunk too much of it. As soon as he felt the witcher's body tense up under his weight, he couldn't help but smooth his palms over that broad chest and feel the man tremble under his touch.

"Fuck." He chuckled as he felt the steady rhythm of Geralt's slow heartbeat under his fingers. "I thought your heart will beat as fast as mine." He grinned and looked into those wide, startled amber eyes.

"Believe me, it has never beat faster."

Geralt's voice was _ravaged._ He looked so unfairly innocent. The way he didn't dare to move a muscle. He just let Jaskier eyes and hands explore him. Yet he was anything but innocent, and they both know that. The brunet saw the way his blunt nails were digging into his couch, nearly ripping into the weak material. He felt each and every erratic breath shaking the witcher. He saw how Geralt's mouth was slightly open because he wanted to taste Jaskier's scent on his tongue. He was holding back and fighting against his own hunger, and dear Gods, it made the brunet awfully smug.

He knew that once Geralt gives in, he will _ruin_ Jaskier for everyone else. He had not a single doubt in his mind about that.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked as he slid his palms up over the witcher's chest. He ran his thumbs over sharp collarbones, pressed his finger's against Geralt's jugular, earning a teeny groan from the man as he wrapped his arms around the other's neck with a sly grin.

"Wouldn't be a wise move." Geralt grunted as he felt Jaskier's clever fingers tangle into his hair.

"But you kissed me in your car."

"I'm a fucking idiot, Jaskier." The witcher sighed and smiled as the brunet giggled at his bluntness.

"And you think I'm any better? Very kind of you, but I have to disappoint you. I am a moron, Geralt." Jaskier grinned, and before the witcher could have stopped him, he moved his hips closer to the witcher, sliding up on muscular thighs with a satisfied little moan. "You don't want it?" The whisper was hot against Geralt's lips, and he felt Jaskier tug on his hair to _make_ him look at him.

The witcher hissed, and immediately his hands were grabbing the young man's sharp hipbones. Geralt was too weak to push him away and not strong enough to pull him closer until Jaskier was right there, sitting perfectly in his lap. He wanted to. Fuck, of course, he fucking wanted it. He wanted to feel their bodies touch and shiver. He wanted to taste Jaskier's skin and lick and bite every inch of his pale skin until the brunet comes untouched, just from the way Geralt was devouring him.

"Then what's stopping you? Tell me! Make me understand! Please, because I don't know why you look at me like _that._ Exactly like _that_ , as if… as if you want to eat me alive, yet you don't. I know I remind you of _him._ But if you loved and wanted _him_ , then have me. Please! I don't… Fuck. I don't even care if I'm just a replacement. Just a memory to relive. I'm too far gone to care about that. So please just-"

"Stop!"

Geralt closed his eyes as he whispered. _Begged._ He couldn't bear that look anymore.

"You are not a replacement, Jaskier. Never was or could be."

The witcher didn't want to look at him. He was a coward, after all. A bloody weakling.

He dropped his forehead onto the brunet's left shoulder and felt as those shivering fingers started to rub a soothing circle against his back. Jaskier moved and pressed a chaste kiss against his neck.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you." The brunet's lively voice was now small and apologetic. Geralt hated it. "But I want you to know that you can tell me. Whatever it is. Y-you, don't need to protect me."

The witcher only hummed against his shoulder, and Jaskier hugged him so tightly Geralt's ancient spine popped from the force. The brunet giggled and moved his hands on the sides of the witcher's face, cupping his jaw in between warm palms. Golden eyes met cornflower-blue ones for a brief moment before Jaskier moved back a little bit. Still sitting on Geralt's thighs, but it was now casual as if someone turned down the heat on the thermostat. The flame was still there but smaller.

It wasn't burning his skin anymore, just warming up his whole body. Like too much wine did.

"If I sell my furniture from here, I can pay you back for some things. Not much but…" Jaskier shrugged while he walked two of his fingers from Geralt's stomach up to his chest. It was childish. His fingers were taking slow steps. Each of them tickled the witcher, and his smile got broader until he caught Jaskier's wrist and pressed his lips against his fingertips, loving the way those pupils dilated.

"I thought you want to keep this flat, so you have your own place when you visit." Geralt asked in a low voice, still holding onto the brunet's hand, who had quivered each time some words were breathed against his skin. 

Jaskier licked his bottom lip as he kept his eyes fixated on the witcher's rosy lips. He felt the light stubble scratching against his fingers. Even when Geralt tried to be loving and tender, he was a goddamn tease.

"Well. I thought I could stay somewhere else when I'm here." Jaskier mumbled, and colour tinted his cheeks as soon as he saw the gears turning in Geralt's head. Those yellow eyes widened, and he lowered the brunet's hand in his soft grip. "I-I mean. If that is an option?"

"It is." Geralt's answer was fast. Hurried and husky. Jaskier couldn't help but laugh at how eager the other was. "But I thought you hate my house." The mutant smirked, and the brunet rolled his eyes.

"Well. Hate is a strong word, and anyway, you will be there with me, right? To make it more likeable."

"Did you just ask me to let you move in?" Geralt asked with a grin, and for a second, the brunet just gasped and gaped at the other.

"Someone has to! I'm desperate here. I'm throwing you the biggest signs in the history of humanity. Like I'm _this_ close to putting a neon arrow on my arse saying 'Please Enter'!" Jaskier whined, and the witcher just raised an eyebrow at him as he glanced down on his own hands on the brunet's hips. Blue ones followed golden eyes as the silver-haired man moved his palms excruciatingly sluggishly. But they got there. And those strong fingers dug into the firm flesh of Jaskier's bottom, and his whole back arched as he moaned.

"No need for that arrow." Geralt murmured against the other's pale throat as Jaskier threw back his head to give him more room to take, and mark, and bite and break the skin if he wanted to. And the witcher wanted all of that. But maybe another time.

Geralt's phone chose that exact moment to go off in his jacket.

"No. No. No. Ignore it! Please!" Jaskier wailed as the man let go of his bottom to fish the mobile out of his pocket. The mutant gave him an apologetic smile and received the call. The brunet's face was true devastation. He slumped limply against Geralt's chest and gave out an angry growl.

"Yes. Understood. I will be right there." The witcher's answers were short and annoyed. Jaskier sat back to glare at the silver-haired man with a pout. Geralt couldn't help but ran his thumb over the brunet's bottom lip gently. Jaskier tried it so hard to stay mad at the monster-hunter. He even bit into that thumb, but Geralt's hiss and confused frown were too entertaining not to laugh.

"Yes, Sir." The witcher snarled more to the brunet than to the person on the line as he dismissed the call and slid his phone back into his jacket. "You bit me?"

"Who answers a call in the middle of foreplay?" Jaskier asked back quickly, and whatever Geralt wanted to say died on the tip of his tongue with a grunt. "Exactly!"

"I need to go." He sighed, and without breaking a sweat, he stood up with Jaskier still wrapped around his body. The brunet giggled and locked his ankles behind the witcher's back.

"Mind if I tag along?"

"Could be difficult to fight off a wywern with you on in my lap." Geralt smirked and walked into the kitchen to put down Jaskier on the counter, who, like some ivy, was still wrapped around him.

"Is it dangerous?"

"I will be fine."

Jaskier grimaced and let go of the other with an unintelligible murmur. The witcher always thought the more time he spent with _his_ bard, was the more difficult it to leave him behind. Each time when the poet hid behind a tree or stayed in their shared room, Geralt's legs were heavier as he walked away.

Now they weighed more than what he was capable of lifting.

"When can I see you again?"

"In a few days. I have to travel out of the country."

Jaskier's pout was back again as he stared at his own hands in his lap. He knew he was needy. He has always been. If he got attached to someone, he clung to that person until they told him to piss off. Jaskier knew his own flaws, even if he denied he had any. He could be annoying and somewhat childish, but now, it took all the strength he had to not ask Geralt to stay. To stay here with him. To spend their days and nights together.

The brunet took a massive, shaky breath and put on his trademark grin. Eyes sparkled with false happiness as he looked at the witcher.

"Well then, you better hurry up, my Dear. Chop-chop."

Geralt, of course, heard Jaskier's heart. He knew that the other wanted to say something entirely else, but he didn't comment on it. He pressed a nimble kiss on Jaskier's forehead and stepped away.

"Hurry back, yeah? I need a strong man to help me with the boxes, as I am nothing but dainty and fragile."

Geralt nodded and looked over at the young man who sat on the kitchen counter.

The Sun was just ducking behind the buildings on the other side of the road. The sky was orange, like glowing embers. The window behind Jaskier was gleaming, giving him a halo. The left side of his face was wrapped in the shade while the right… the right side was…

Geralt blinked twice. Jaskier's eyelashes were illuminated from behind. His eyes seemed almost silver as he glanced at the witcher. He looked so pure. So beautiful and young. Full of life and hopes and… and love.

He looked exactly like when Geralt first saw him in Posada. When the young poet kneeled down to grab whatever he could save that was thrown at him.

The watcher watched him perform. He didn't turn to him; he just followed the bard from the corners of his eyes. He never mentioned it to the troubadour. He never told him that he quite liked the song. He found it witty. Funny even, in a crude way.

Geralt flinched when someone started shouting, and the folks threw their leftover bread at the young brunet. Jaskier snapped at them, the witcher remembered how surprised he was when the seemingly well-mannered and bright man started cursing like a sailor. The mutant hid his smirk behind his mug.

That was when he looked over once again to the bard. Their eyes met for a quick second, and the witcher picked up his sweet scent from all the way across the tavern. He heard the way Jaskier's heart raced inside his chest. Geralt knew that the poet will come over to his table even before the young man probably realised where his legs were taking him. It was a cue for him to finish his ale and leave, but he wasn't fast enough, and well… the rest was history.

"What?" Jaskier dropped his head to the side as he looked at the monster hunter. Geralt seemed to be lost in his thoughts.

"After all this time, you still take my breath away."

Jaskier's blush was immediate. It crept up from his neck. The apples of his cheeks were flaming hot as his mouth fell open. Geralt's smile was wide. His dimples were on full display as he turned around and walked to the front door.

The brunet needed a few moments to catch up with reality.

"W-wait! What do you mean after all this time? Geralt? Geralt, don't leave me! Oi, Witcher!"

Jaskier's shouts were echoing in the staircase as the mutant ran down the stairs with a smirk. His phone was already buzzing. He knew that it was the brunet sending him dozens of texts per second.

He often did this back then. Rile up the bard before he left. He would rather see him angry than heartbroken. After all, they were professionals at bantering. They did it for decades.

Geralt got the case files from his supervisor officer. It was so easy. There was no more threatening some drunken farmer for information. Negotiating with cheap kings. Running away from villagers and their pitchforks.

He missed it sometimes. Not every day. But all this paperwork and pre-prepared hunts were sometimes so dull. Geralt felt like an executioner instead of a witcher. He was supposed to hunt. Lurk in the darkness and think like a monster. Now he was following GPS coordinates and orders from someone who has never even touched a sword before.

Yet sometimes, on those days when he rather would be dead, simplicity was a gift.

Today the whole job was a pain in the arse.

Jaskier looked around his flat. He hated how cluttered it was. He was too sentimental. He kept everything that had a spec of memory attached to it. He just… he always felt like he was looking for something… someone to fill that void.

Now he wanted to throw all of it into the rubbish bin. He didn't need them anymore. He had Geralt. The missing piece he was looking for.

It was terrifying. Finding the person you were looking for throughout your whole life. Jaskier felt like a painter who created their masterpiece, knowing they will never surpass it.

The brunet sat down on his bed and pulled his guitar into his lap.

It was easy to compose songs about Geralt. Jaskier could fill a whole album with melodies dedicated to the witcher's moonshine-hair. Sing about how it caught the sunlight. How it was silky like mercury.

He could easily sing about those golden eyes as well. How they were in the colour of honey-whiskey. How they could make him shiver and tremble with one glance. How they held centuries of memories and pain and secrets. How they were humble and confident, feral and caring at the same time.

Or his hands. His scarred, strong hands and long fingers. The way the veins ran under his snow-white skin. Purple and blue rivers he wanted to follow with his lips. Pink and silver, old and new scars and marks he wanted to ask about.

Jaskier played for hours without stop. His fingertips were hardened since he was a child, but the way he vigorously held the chords down and plucked the strings, his hands were aching. His wrist was sore, and his throat was dry from humming along. Singing without words. Just the tune. Following it with his vocal cords. After all, he will move away soon. The old lady next door can enjoy his music for one last time.

It was late at night when he got a message from Geralt.

**"Yennefer pushed me through a portal. She said it was faster. The city has a wywern infestation."**

Jaskier got out from under the shower when he saw the message and grinned at his screen. Geralt once mentioned to him how much he loathes portals. How they are messing up his senses for a few minutes. Every light and sound and taste and smell was too sharp, cutting him like blades. But Geralt also mentioned how much time he saved with portals. A time that sometimes saved human lives.

**"i'm sorry you upset your tummy"**

**"It's not."**

**"Upset, I mean."**

**"sure thing tough guy. i wish I could be there to help you"**

Jaskier saw that Geralt typed. Then he stopped. The brunet chewed on his bottom lip before he sent another text.

**"i miss you"**

**"I miss you too"**

The young man rolled onto his back as he was still damp and flushed red in a single towel around his hip. He looked down at his chest and flat stomach. That knot was awfully low on his hips. So low it was actually rather suggestive. As the resident little shite he was, Jaskier took a picture of himself and sent it to the witcher. Lewd and improper. Showing too much and promising even more.

The wait, until he saw those three dots in that bubble, was frightful.

**"I think I'm supposed to tell you to stop, I need to focus, but fuck, Jaskier, you're gorgeous."**

Geralt's words echoed in his head on a loop. The brunet flopped onto his stomach and whined into his pillow before he typed an answer.

**"do you want more?"**

**"Stop! I need to focus."**

The quick reply made him bark out a laugh. He had it bad. He stared at his screen like a lovesick fool. If anybody else did the same, he would make fun of them and tease them for being sickly in love. And now… now he was that idiot. That bloody idiot who fell for a man who maybe will never be ready to have Jaskier. All of Jaskier.

**"I will text you when I can."**

**"xoxo?"**

**"Yen told me to send that. Ignore it."**

"Gods, I'm going to marry this man one day." He chuckled loudly as he read the messages.

And at that moment, Jaskier had no doubts about that. Not a single one. In that second, he was sure he was born to be with Geralt; even if it was nonsense, it made sense in his head.

Jaskier somehow fell asleep with the phone in his hand and a soft smile on his lips. He dreamed about a path in a forest and a chestnut-colored horse, with a white spot on its forehead. He never owned a horse before, or any pet; to be honest, it was a luxury he couldn't afford. But that mare seemed familiar. Maybe he dreamed about her before. He couldn't tell. The image in his head was foggy. Jaskier tried to hold onto it, only to be wakened up way too early to someone kicking his door impatiently.

The sound was like an air hammer knocking on his skull. He couldn't even blink his eyes open before his mind started racing.

_Bills, rent, council tax…_

"Fuck."

He paid for everything on time this month for a change. He is usually late a few days, and he sometimes needed to be a little bit cheeky and a tiny bit undressed to charm the landlady to not kick him out. But this time… Jaskier was sure he didn't owe anything to anyone, yet there was someone who tried to break down his front door.

He wrapped a blanket around his naked body. His towel from last night was somewhere under the bed, and he marched into his living room.

"Who is it?"

Jaskier's voice was throaty. He made a face at how ridiculous he sounded like a terrified housewife waiting for her husband to return while some hooligans destroyed their front yard.

The knocking stopped, and the brunet, like a caterpillar wrapped in its cocoon, walked to his door.

"I thought you never wake up. I swear you sleep like Geralt when he is drunk."

The scream that just came out of Jaskier's body might have been impressive if he would be an opera singer. He wasn't. But as soon as Yennefer's bored voice called from behind him, the young man was sure he lost a few years of his youth.

"What the fuck! Are you trying to kill me?" He shrieked and pulled the blanket over his shoulders tighter as he nearly tripped over the edge. The woman, mesmerising and alarming as always, just stood there in his flat with a bored look on her face as Jaskier tried to calm down his rapid heartbeats.

"Believe me, Sweetheart. We wouldn't have this conversation if I wanted you dead."

"That's not comforting at all. Do you have any idea how creepy you are?"

"It's funny coming from someone who is trying to fuck the Grim Reaper."

"I'm… not." Jaskier protested and felt the blood rush into his cheeks as the mage smirked at him viciously. "Geralt knows you call him that?"

"Not the worst thing we called each other, believe me." Jennifer shrugged and looked around in the flat with a pulled up nose. Jaskier rolled his eyes and walked past the sorceress to the kitchen. He needed caffeine to deal with her this early in the morning.

"As much as I enjoy your bone-chilling company, is there any reason why you are here?" He asked over his shoulder as he grabbed two clean mugs from next to the sink.

"I heard you are moving."

The answer was, of course, short and not helping him at all. Jaskier snorted as he raised an eyebrow and nodded towards the bag of ground coffee beans.

"Just black. Thank you." Jennifer smiled at him gently, and to be honest, it was even more terrifying than her usually stoic face.

"So what, you came to help with the boxes?"

"Darling, my nails worth twice as much as your whole flat." She sighed and flashed her flawless, fresh manicure to the brunet. Jaskier showed him one single middle finger in return. "Charming. Anyway. I'm here to keep you company."

"What a lucky man I am." Jaskier grinned at the mage and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the counter while the coffee slowly started dripping into the glass pot.

"Indeed you are. I also thought that we could have a chat."

"About what?"

"About you and my very best friend and former lover."

Jaskier knew that they used to be together. Geralt told him how much he used to love Yen. But they were just not mean to be a couple. Yet hearing it from the sorceress was a bitter pill to swallow. He couldn't hold the gaze of those lilac eyes. He turned around to fidget with the mugs. Started looking for the pouring cream he know he didn't have in the fridge.

"Oh, please. You know he loves you more than he ever loved me, right?"

"Right." Jaskier muttered under his breath and felt the other move closer until she stood right next to him.

"You know he is asking for my advice? About you!"

"Friends do that." He shrugged and poured some milk into one of the mugs.

"Yes. But not Geralt. He is too stubborn, too scared, and too big of an idiot to ask for my advice. He only did it once before, when his bard died. He asked me how to keep living." Jaskier dropped the spoon into the mug. The noise it made was so loud it kept on ringing in his ears. "Now he talks about you all the time. Drives me fucking insane, but it's better than the usual hums and grunts."

"Why are you telling me this?" The young man lifted his confused blue eyes at the woman. Yennefer was so ridiculously perfect; they must have been the superior couple back then. How could he ever compete with her?

"You are a fool." The mage grinned at him and took the black coffee from the counter. "Geralt, for once in his life, is so scared of screwing it up he actually listens to me. Don't you see? He is trying to do better. He is trying everything to be perfect this time."

"This time?" Jaskier asked back, and the sorceress froze for a moment before she replaced her smile.

"Yes. His last attempt to have a relationship."

"Well, that does not put pressure on me at all."

Yennefer finished her steaming hot coffee as if it wasn't of the temperature of the surface of the Sun, and with a flick of her wrist, the mug was squeaky clean and dry.

"Nice trick."

"I have my moments." Jennifer grinned and walked into the living room as she sat down on the couch. Her legs were crossed, and she leaned back and put her arms over the headrest. "So Geralt told me you are planning to stay with him."

Jaskier frowned at her from the kitchen. He wasn't sure which talk was this.

The 'If you hurt him, I will kill you' talk. Or the 'Here is some advice from the gorgeous ex' talk.

"Neither." Yen interrupted as she studied the brunet's scowl. "This is the 'Go for it and please make him happy, because he is miserable' talk."

"Must be tiring to be such a smart-arse."

"Awfully." Her smile was cunning, and Jaskier could feel her snooping around in his head. Felt as if cold fingers were touching his thoughts. Memorising them as if she wanted to find something inside him. Jaskier glared back, and for a few minutes, he just let the woman open him up. Slowly, as if he were a tidily wrapped expensive gift.

"Don't you think it is an interesting coincidence that you two met?"

The question was sudden and unforeseen. Yet Yennefer tried to act like it perfectly fit into their conversation.

"I know. Sometimes… sometimes I think it was more than that." The brunet was quiet. His voice was dubious, and he stole a glance from the sorceress. Her face was impossible to read.

"What if it was more than a coincidence? What if someone planned it? Would that change your mind?"

"Change my mind about what?"

"About Geralt and what's in between you two."

Jaskier slowly walked into the living room. Yennefer's smile was calm, and her purple eyes were not leaving his.

"Nothing could change that."

The silence was too long for his liking. He could feel his fingers twitching, and that foreign entity was inside his head one again. Yennefer was checking if he was lying or not until she was satisfied with what she found there.

"Marvelous. I must get going."

"I thought you are here to keep me company?" Jaskier called after her when the woman stood up and raced for the door. Her long, dark coat stirred up the air inside the small flat.

"And I just did that. Take care, Jaskier."

"Wait!"

Yennefer stopped but didn't turn around. Something only pretentious people do. Jaskier knew it very well; he often used this trick to be dramatic.

"Is it something more, right? It wasn't just a coincidence. Geralt told me I look like him, and I named myself after him. I sing. I was abandoned as a baby. Do you know who or… what I am? Does Geralt know?"

Jaskier's voice was hesitant and desperate. Yennefer's shoulders were tense. The black-haired mage was usually like a blank panther. Smooth, careful, deadly, and incredibly self-controlled. But for a few seconds, the curtains moved, and Jaskier could see behind them. Yennefer may appear to be stoic, almost statue-like. But now, she seemed cornered. Someone who has been caught lying.

Until the breeze vanished. The curtains were closed again, and the mage posture changed. Straight spine, strong shoulders with her chin up.

"You are everything he ever needed."

Jaskier doesn't know how long he was pacing up and down in his flat after Yennefer has left. He kept playing back their conversation in his head. It was clear that the mage and the witcher knew more than what they told him. Maybe Jaskier was some monster they tried to hide? Maybe he was some kind of reincarnation of Master Jaskier's? Was such a thing even possible? Perhaps he was his long lost descended, and Geralt felt like he needed to protect him?

"It doesn't matter." Jaskier shook his head as he kept folding his clothes and layering them inside his luggage.

It does not matter to him. He can be an alien or a long lost dead poet. He may be a fool, but he really did not care. If he was everything Geralt needed, it was good enough for him.

For once in his life, he was perfect for someone.

Before Geralt, he was always a little bit _too_ something. Too loud. Too chatty. Too poor. Too young. Too flamboyant. Too annoying. He couldn't count how many times a man told him to shut up. To use his mouth for something else. How many times they told him to go and change. How many times he got humiliated and thought it was alright because he deserved it.

Jaskier was young and incredibly naïve. He fell for straight men or men who were still deep in the closet. For men who treated him like shite. And for men who never appreciated him enough… or at all. Then there was Geralt, who treated him like… like Jaskier was indeed his last chance for happiness.

The brunet wanted to do the same. He wanted to be worthy of the mutant's love. He was always the extra mile guy, but fuck, for Geralt, he would run a marathon.

Geralt was standing in sewage water when his phone started buzzing in his pocket. It was Yennefer. The mutant grunted and accepted the call. If it had been anyone else, the mutant would call them back later, but Yen's wrath was worst than dying because he was distracted by a phone call.

"I'm busy."

"That's a shame. We need to talk." The mage's answers were fast and careless, as if she didn't even hear the witcher. Geralt rolled his eyes as he walked through the underground tunnels. It was like a bloody maze. The only way he knew which way he came from was the clear scent of the air and shallow breeze he could still feel on his cheeks.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing. Had a small chat with lover-boy. I think he suspects something."

Geralt stopped. He needed a second not to crush the mobile in grip before he spoke.

"You told him?"

"Of course not, but you need to, Geralt. Stop playing with him."

"I'm not playing with him; I just-"

"You are a coward. I know."

"Yennefer, I am literally walking into a wyvern nest." He snarled, and the mage's bored sigh was even more infuriating through the tiny speaker.

"Geralt, you are this big scary monster hunter, but we both know that you were terrified throughout your whole life. Aren't you tired of it?"

"Yen…"

"No. I have had it with you. Jaskier's death wasn't your fault, but the fact that he died without knowing that you loved him was. You know what he said today? That he doesn't care. He doesn't care if this wasn't just a coincidence. He is so in love with you, Geralt. He just wants to be with you, so let him!"

"How could-" The witcher had to swallow. His throat was so dry it burned. "How could he? He believes it was fate, but he never had a choice. You made him because… because you knew he would have to love me just like _he_ did."

"That's not true, and you know it. He had a choice. They both had, and they both chose to love you."

"And it got _him_ killed."

"So hold onto this second chance tightly!"

"Not until he is safe."

Yennefer groaned on the other side of the line. The voice was dragged out and raging.

"You need to face with the possibility that he will never be more than a mortal. But you can't lead him on any longer. Grow a pair, Geralt. You need to tell him the truth or stop leading him on!"

The witcher didn't answer. He closed his eyes and tried to calm down his nerves.

"Please. Take your time and come back with a decision."

The call ended, and the quiet beeping died in the tunnel. Geralt stood there covered in only God's knows what, and yet the sewage wasn't the reason why he felt disgusting. But he couldn't do this right now. Once again, being a witcher came first, and being an actual person with problems was always at the end of the queue.

Geralt shook his head and slid the phone back into his pocket. The wyverns were closed. He could already smell them. He had an iron-grip on his sword as he walked through the shallow water as quiet as a ghost. He needed to focus. It would be rather ironic to die before he could tell Jaskier the truth. And he knew that fate loved irony.

After Jaskier was shaken up by Yennefer, he really rolled up his sleeves and started to take his flat apart. Bags on top of bags were filled with clothes and his worthless little belongings. He did check his phone every five minutes, waiting for a call or a text from Geralt, but nothing came. He didn't want to be the reason the witcher fails his mission, so he chose to be patient. Even if he kept glaring at his screen as a girlfriend waiting for her bastard of a boyfriend to call her back. After the first day, his craving won, and Jaskier was defeated by his neediness.

**"i hope everything is alright. please text me if you can"**

The message was unread for over seven lengthy hours. The reply was short and had been sent after three am.

**"Don't worry."**

So naturally, Jaskier panicked and called the only person he knew that know the answers to everything. Yennefer.

Geralt was exhausted. Three days without food and sleeping had taken a toll on his ancient body. He stank from guts and sewage. His own scars were pulling his skin. It itched and was unbearably uncomfortable. His hair was in chunks. His fingernails were black, his knuckles bruised. It only meant one thing. A successful hunt.

He nearly fell asleep behind the wheel as he drove home after finishing the reports. He knew he has to clean his car seat tomorrow, but it wasn't his priority right now. He had some composure to wipe down the bloody fingerprints from the side of his car, where he clumsily touched it as he climbed out of the vehicle. He wouldn't want to give the lady who lived next door a heart-attack. It was in the middle of the day. The streets were empty, and Geralt was grateful for that. He hated hiding in his car until it was safe for him to drag his body into his house, looking like something a dog chewed up.

The mutant was so out of it he didn't hear the rapid footsteps or the way someone was extremely busy in his kitchen. As soon as he unlocked the door and stepped into his house, the scent and warmness kicked him in the chest. Jaskier stood in the kitchen as a deer caught in the headlights.

The brunet stood there in an apron. It wasn't Geralt's as he never in his life owned an apron. Jaskier also had oven mitts and fluffy slippers on. His cheeks were pinkish from the heat, and he had a bobby pin keeping his bangs away from his forehead.

"H-hey!" The young man's grin was hesitant yet so bright it blinded Geralt for a moment. "Yennefer, let me in. She is not here, don't worry."

Geralt couldn't say anything. He mutely watched how Jaskier's small chuckle died, and worry grew on his face by each passing silent second.

"She told me you are on your way back, and I thought you will be hungry, so…" Jaskier wiped his palms into the apron; it was a reflex; he forgot he was wearing oven mitts. The apron was so fucking tightly wrapped around his waist. Geralt stared at that lean body and felt his heartache. "I'm not a good cook, but I followed the recipe to the T." He mumbled and looked over the messy kitchen. It looked like a battlefield, but the witcher couldn't deny how delicious it smelled whatever was hidden in the oven.

"Are you hurt? You look… rough." Jaskier asked as he studied the bloodied and beaten up mutant. He wanted nothing more than to give him a bath and feed him. Take care of him. Hold him and remind him how it feels when someone is gentle with him. But he didn't move a muscle.

"I'm fine." Geralt's voice was throaty. He didn't dare to say more. He didn't care about the dirt he left behind as he closed the gap between them in five long steps. He marched to the brunet as if he was possessed. He limped a little, and Jaskier's scent filled up with concern immediately.

"Geralt, are you sure you are-"

He didn't let Jaskier finish his sentence. He reached for the brunet's neck and kissed the startled man. His wide blue eyes were dazed as he felt those chapped lips capture his slightly parted ones. A puny whimper burst out of him as Geralt shut him up with a kiss. Jaskier's eyelids fluttered closed as he melted into the witcher's arms. His hands, still in the oven mitts, tried to get a hold onto Geralt's jacked to pull him closer, but he couldn't. The frustrated moan made the silver-haired man smirk into the kiss as he kept pushing and devouring the other.

Geralt's fingers soon found Jaskier's hair. He kept pulling the other closer. The brunet was standing in between the witcher's legs and wrapped his arms around his neck. Geralt never imagined Jaskier's taste will be so divine. He was sweet and so rich. The witcher's head was spinning as he kept biting and nipping Jaskier's bottom lip.

"Ger-" He didn't let him talk. Whatever he wanted to say could wait because Geralt needed to lick and taste and get lost in the heavenly sensation that Jaskier was. His body against his own, slightly trembling and heating up. So warm in burned his mouth a bit, but he couldn't stop. The smell of his lust, as it wrapped around them, was intoxicating. The way his hips kept pushing and rolling against Geralt's sensitive body was maddening.

And Jaskier was eager. He was so keen and hungry he nearly forgot how to breathe. He opened his lips so obediently the witcher almost lost all of his self-control right there as he licked into Jaskier's scorching hot, sweet mouth.

The concept of time disappeared as they stood there in Geralt's messy kitchen, gluttonously consuming each other as they tried to fill that emptiness inside their chests. But it seemed like it was a bottomless pit. Because with each groan, with each passing second, with each bite and shiver, their famine just grew.

It was Geralt who moved away first, and Jaskier was not having it. He knew they needed to stop. Geralt wasn't even sure if he would survive if they continue, or he will just drop dead from fatigue.

"No. No. Please. Please, don't stop!" Jaskier hopelessly rambled as he pressed a kiss in the corners of the witcher's mouth. Trying to pull him back and climb onto him at the same time.

"Jaskier, I need-"

"Need you to continue! Please!" The brunet hissed against his lips and licked a long stripe over Geralt's razor-sharp jawline. The few days old stubbles were harsh against his delicate lips, and he sobbed into the mutant's ear as he kept trying to press his hips against Geralt's.

He has never been this hard and aroused in his life. Jaskier was no stranger to intimacy. He was actually proud of how amazing of a lover he was, but at that moment, he was sure if Geralt keeps kissing him, he will come inside his trousers like a teenager, and he would have absolutely no regrets about it.

"Jaskier!" Geralt murmured so deep it resonated in his chest so powerfully the young man sobbed into his ear. He never heard his voice like that. Ever. But Jaskier quickly decided it was his favourite sound in the whole wild world.

"I need a shower." Geralt tried to reason with the impatient brunet, and he took a step back. Jaskier snarled at him like some stray dog, and the mutant find it awfully adorable.

"Do I look like I care about some blood on you? I'm too hard to worry about that." Jaskier snapped, and the witcher couldn't hold back his laughter anymore. The grin on his flushed lips was tired but so beautiful and genuine the brunet really could not stay angry at him. "You're killing me here; I hope you know that."

"Hm." Geralt grunted with a smirk and pressed a brief kiss to Jaskier's temple. "The food smells delicious."

"Oh, no. You are not getting away with this with some compliments, you arse."

"Can't wait to try it." Geralt called over his shoulder as he ignored the fuming brunet and locked himself into the bathroom. He looked even more horrifying in the blazing white light. It was a wonder how the brunet could find him anything but terrifying.

He could still hear Jaskier disappointedly mumbling in the kitchen while he showered and scrubbed himself clean. The water slowly turned from brown to carmine, then to slightly pink to perfectly clear. The deep cut on his chest stopped bleeding as well, but the flesh was still raw and itching. His bruises started to turn black like grey spots on white marble.

Jaskier threw one of the oven mitts at him as he walked into his bedroom in nothing but a loosely knot towel, still dripping wet and with a sly smirk.

"You either come out naked, or I will throw the food away!"

He didn't. They ate together while Geralt told everything about his hunt to Jaskier, who kept bombarding him with questions after questions. The witcher had to tell him how he got his cuts and injuries. How many wyverns were there? What they sound and look like. How he killed each and every single one of them.

For a few minutes, Geralt felt like he was sitting next to a fire as he described his fights with some ungodly creatures to the enthusiastic young troubadour while they shared their food.

Nothing changed; it was just a different age.

They washed the dishes together. Jaskier sat on the counter as he dried the plates and babbled about his last few days and his progress with the packing. Geralt listened to his silly stories with a soft smile. He was so exhausted his legs were slightly shaking, but he didn't say anything. He just enjoyed hurricane Jaskier and the turmoil that came with him.

"You should go to sleep." The last bowl was still in Jaskier's lap as he chased the water droplets with a towel as he spoke. "And I should go. I got some boxes from the lad next door, and I still have some packing to do." Jaskier smiled at him while Geralt took the bowl and put it back in the cupboard. He stood back right there in between the brunet's legs.

"Are you telling me you don't have your toothbrush and underwear in that backpack of yours?" He asked with a smirk, and Jaskier's cheeks were rapidly turning all shades of red as he gaped at the man in disbelieve.

"A-are you calling me desperate? You think it was a nasty little trick to get into your bed?" His voice was dramatically high and tremendously offended. Geralt only had to raise a sceptic eyebrow at him, and the brunet had a cheeky grin on his lips. "Well, then you are absolutely right. Can I really stay?"

"I want you to."

And with that, Jaskier was wrapped around Geralt once again like a straightjacket.

He got carried into the bedroom. His giggles were loud and giddy as the witcher dropped him on the mattress and climbed next to him. Jaskier curled up against his side and placed his head on Geralt's chest, carefully not to bother the fresh scars. The mutant wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and he intended to stay awake and enjoy Jaskier's happy scent, or the way his cold toes touched his shin or the way the brunet hummed a soft tune.

But he couldn't. Geralt was so fast asleep he wasn't sure he didn't actually pass out.

He wasn't aware of how Jaskier smiled at him as he ran his fingers through soft, slightly wet silver hair. Or how he pressed feather-light kisses to Geralt's collarbone. Or how he snapped dozens of photos of the two of them and changed his background to be Geralt. He didn't feel when Jaskier sucked a large, angry-red hickey onto his neck and fell asleep on his shoulder with a satisfied grin.

Geralt slept like the dead, in the arms of the man he loved, who perhaps had no intentions of sleeping in his lonely flat ever again, and maybe had more than one set of clothes hidden in his backpack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well?  
> I hope you liked it!  
> If you did, or not, please let me know in the comments, or come and trashtalk with me on twitter!  
> @doberainbow
> 
> Have a lovely day/evening! Take care of yourself and stay safe!
> 
> Love you all 💖


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